


Into Remission

by BugTongue, Necey



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Ask me who dies if you need to my tumblr is in my profile, Bittersweet Ending, M/M, Magic makes you crazy, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Murder Makes You Crazy, Nen Contracts as a Terminal Illness, Nonbinary Character(s), Slow Burn, Subtle Gender Dysphoria, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue/pseuds/BugTongue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necey/pseuds/Necey
Summary: Kurapika tries to find meaning in his life after discovering that murder doesn't make him feel better, and is in fact draining his life away like so much sand through fingers. Leorio is intent on keeping his friend and sometimes lover alive, despite the odds. Meanwhile, the forces of chaos grieve the actions of a vengeful killer and a wrathful trickster in the only way they know how; more murder. Warnings for unsafe growing environments for children, unsafe cultural conditions for children, and unacceptable working conditions for adults who missed out on childhood.





	1. Prologue: An Early Start

**Author's Note:**

> As of Posting this I'm currently halfway through writing chapter 4, which due to AO3's chaptering system will be chapter 5. I will not abandon this fic, it's far too important to me and even if it takes me a long time it will be completed.
> 
> This will be as heavy and overwrought as you may have come to expect from me, that's all I ever write, but it will have what I hope is an acceptable ending. People make bad choices and people suffer for them, sometimes those are different people and sometimes they're not. That's a good way to sum up the message of this fic, besides "child endangerment is bad". I wouldn't say this fic will have a happy ending, nor will the bright moments be enough to chase away the clouds, but I don't write things simply to make others sad. I hope this is something meaningful to other people and not just myself, and I hope it gives you hope with whatever you're going through.
> 
> Idea and writing: BugTongue  
> Outline and beta reading: Necey

Those of the troupe still living gathered around their leader in the dim lighting of the subway tunnel, a segment that required knowing the tunnels themselves as well as the rail schedules to get into. It wasn't their most secure hideout, but that was losing its importance swiftly as their members were picked off one at a time. The tunnel echoed with distant crowd murmur, the sound of a train leaving and hissing off into the darkness, the room lit by not much more than a few phone lights cast the group palid grey. Chrollo spoke.   
  
"This is a problem I believe might mean our end." Even with the idea of defeat in his words, he didn't seem particularly bothered, and in fact he seemed almost pleased. "Between Hisoka and The Chain User, we've lost more members in five years than in the entire history of the Troupe. I believe the spider will live on, but none of its parts will be the same, essentially a new being. Perhaps it's time, just as our bodies shed the original cells for stronger, newer cells, so must an organization change."   
  
Kalluto sat nearest the edge of the room, close to the rails. The silks of his kimono kept him warm, but to the touch, under his hands, they were chilled by the stony air. It was February, and the ice had sunk deep into the earth and taken hold, covering the world outside in white and grey slush that sank into every porous material with intent. His clothes were not clean, but neither were the clothes of the adults who sat with him in the gloom. The recent months had been flurries of messages and signs between members to lay low there or leave that city, no time to relax or get much of anything done with constant sightings of their two biggest threats.   
  
Frankly, he wanted a shower.   
  
Feitan shifted on the stone beside him, reaching up to tighten the bandana around his face. "Anyone dies, should have died anyway. We move on. So should we not bother mourning these dead?" His voice was always so soft, more of a wheeze than a tone. Kalluto liked him the most, and tended to follow him on missions and flights of fancy. He was incredibly skilled, impressive even to Kalluto's recent standards, and he intended to surpass him eventually.   
  
As if aware of Kalluto staring at him in the darkness, Feitan turned just enough to see him peripherally. Kalluto blinked, then turned his gaze back on their boss. This time, it was Nobunaga who spoke. "Of course we will, but if we do it like with Uvo then we'll only be drawing attention to ourselves." He was looking worse for wear, a few grey streaks in his hair either from age, stress, or both Kalluto wasn’t sure, and he looked like all the sleep in the world wouldn’t help him. He wasn’t the only one in the group like that.   
  
"Wouldn't that be better?" Kalluto spoke up, hands itching in his lap to do something. "We draw out our enemies and then kill them, and then it's done." He was no longer the newest member in the Troupe, but he was still the youngest and still trying to prove to himself and the others that he belonged. That he was strong enough and smart enough to take part in not only heists but the planning of them too.   
  
Feitan turned to eye him better, his dark hair blocking most of his face from the light of the phones. "You, advocating for a straightforward attack, you don't want to draw it out?" It was hard to tell around the cloth covering his face, but it seemed he was smirking. He’d been on enough missions and in enough fights beside Kalluto to know exactly the kind of sadist he was, having gone so far as to teach him a few ways to torture a person he hadn’t previously known.

Kalluto returned it with a smile. "I never said I wouldn't drag it out when we get them." Across the room, Machi huffed a quiet laugh and pulled her legs in so she could hold them in place, seemingly delicate hands linked securely around her ankles. Kalluto looked back to Chrollo, a challenge bubbling up in his chest. “What if we hunted them down first.”

“We’re more outmatched than we thought in the beginning, and more so now than then. Just because I think our deaths are inevitable doesn’t mean I’d be okay with any of you getting yourselves killed foolishly.” Chrollo’s gaze hardened in a way that reminded him of his father giving an important bit of information. “I believe Hisoka changed when he resurrected himself, He’d rather kill all of you in the quickest manner possible than have himself a real fight, and The Chain User will stop at nothing to make sure I see you all die before he comes for me. I implore those of you who do go looking for these threats to proceed with caution.”

Caution, Kalluto thought, was something he employed to such a degree it could be an art form in itself. It took exact movements to create origami, his works always impeccably done, and he worked to make his way of fighting similar. He always did well to heed his family's warning about the spiders and tread carefully not only with them, but with the enemies they tended to make along the way. This Chain User had been to the Zoldyck Estate once in the past to cause trouble and spirit away his brother, now he was picking off his new gang over some grudge. Kalluto wanted to rip him into tiny pieces and see how such a man folded under careful hands.

The other threat, Hisoka, was incredibly strong and crafty enough Illumi didn’t trust him not to stab him in the back despite having worked together for more years than Kalluto had been alive. Even though the boss had killed him in a fight, he hadn't stayed dead. He would be too difficult for Kalluto to kill then, so he would focus on more probable prey. He knew that the Chain User was also strong, that anger made him more so, so Kalluto would have to study him first and see what his weaknesses were. His bloodlust was enough to have Feitan reach out and lightly place his hand on the younger’s head.

“Settle down, we will kill him soon.” It wasn't reassurance, it was a promise. The equivalent of being told not to pout because there would be candy waiting for him at home. It made the ember of fondness grow brighter within Kalluto's chest to the point he couldn't help but smile. Being separate from his blood family for so many years made it all the easier to see the Troupe as family, and Feitan in particular seemed like the older sibling he'd wanted. His brothers had never seemed all that interested in him, and while he loved his mother, she seemed to like buying him pretty clothes rather than commend him on new skills he had acquired, and with her interest in keeping Kalluto near to her being so high it left him at odds with Killua. So he had left. At first he planned to bring his siblings home but that plan was gradually changing into just wanting to catch more than a glimpse of them and instead see what kind of life they led.

Until that point where he could confront his real brother, he didn't think it too silly to consider Feitan his older brother. Maybe more like a cousin, although they looked similar enough. Kalluto focused back on what his leader was saying, growing restless once again. He pulled out a small square of floral paper and began to fold it into a crane, something that would keep him busy enough to stay focused despite his restless energy.

“For today,” Chrollo continued, putting his hands together as if to warm his fingers against his opposite palm. “We can rest here, then leave when the sun sets. Get some sleep if you can, and if you can't then at least be quiet, we'll meet up again in a week.” He picked his phone up off the ground and turned its light downward to find where he'd decided to lay down, signaling the rest to follow suit. Feitan picked his phone up as well and pocketed it before laying down where he was, arms behind his head and one leg crossing over the other to bounce almost imperceptibly.

Kalluto continued to fold his crane until it was complete, then ran his fingertips over it's curves and corners as it lay cradled between his palms. He closed it between his hands protectively when Feitan reached out once more to touch him, whispering. “What you make?”

He wouldn't crush his artwork like Milluki, or tell him to unfold it and find something useful to do like Illumi might, but Kalluto knew better than to hand over something he was proud of to anyone. “A crane. The paper is from that craft shop I visited in Marlow.”

“Shoplifter.” His voice was amused and soft as sleep began to settle over him. Kalluto huffed against his knuckles.

“You stole knives from the same city.”

“I am also shoplifting.”

Kalluto laid down on his side so he was facing Feitan, the paper crane clutched to his chest. He was too awake to nod off just yet, but he could watch Feitan’s brow soften by the low lighting of the railway and hear his breathing even out, deepening until he was no longer conscious.

Eventually, sometime after a train passed by their temporary hideout, Kalluto fell asleep. The sounds of the railway becoming a lullaby of electricity and metallic grinding that echoed through the tunnels. Though it wasn't a deep slumber it was restful enough that he wasn't too weary when he came back to awareness as the rest of the Troupe began to stretch and rise, multiple alarms going off in different tunes. Kalluto was surprised when he was beckoned over by the boss upon making eye contact, and approached tensely. He didn't think he'd done anything inappropriate so perhaps this was to be instructive.

Chrollo's expression was as it always was, calm and content. "I would like you and Machi with me until we meet up with the Troupe again, I have something to attend to and I believe your abilities would be helpful." Machi was already coming over with her bag thrown over her shoulder, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He knew better than to judge her thoughts based on her expression by now, and her aura suggested she wasn't in any particular mood.

“I'll need to stop somewhere to pick up more supplies, I can do a lot with my abilities but I'd prefer to have real first aid items.” She reached up to straighten her frizzy, pink hair.

"Okay, where are we going then?" He looked back up at the boss and realized he was still holding the paper crane in his hand. He slipped it into his obi to use later, wondering if Chrollo would think him childish for making objects of whimsy out of the paper he used as a weapon.   
  
If he even noticed he didn't make any visible note of it, instead smiling as he straightened his jacket. "A few cities over, I need to meet with someone who may know something useful about the Chain User."

That piqued Kalluto's interest even more than the fact he would be with the leader, although he did his best not to broadcast it too obviously. “Who is it, a crime boss?” The Chain User had been in with the Mafia until recently, so it was more likely than not for an informant to have worked with him either directly or indirectly. Chrollo shook his head, his smile growing with honest amusement.

“No, I believe I found the man who helped him develop his Hatsu.”


	2. Chapter One: The Fifth Demon

Spring grasses were popping up out of the ground like light green magic, turning once lifeless slush and hard earth into a lively carpet of new growth. The days were still cold, but it was a pleasant difference from the recent freeze--or it would be, if Kurapika wasn't sick again.   
  
It was a strange, bone-deep sort of sickness that started in the head and sank its claws into his blood until he found himself delirious and sweating through his sheets. It was the sickness that came from overworking himself, from overusing Emperor Time, a sickness he could only barely push through with caffeine pills and force of will. He was left robbed of breath most often, or energy, or an appetite, and he longed to go one day without seeing his sins scrawled across his eyelids with glowing red marker.   
  
He was a murderer.   
  
This was something he had a difficult time digesting. The idea that he had killed multiple people now, his enemies, refused to settle in his mind. Indeed it left him rather unsettled on a regular basis, to the point where he found himself gripping his sleeves with white knuckles and staring at nothing as his mind played and replayed the scenes.   
  
Uvogin had been his first, and like most firsts he hadn't known what to expect in the slightest. Killing someone, torturing him with his bare hands before crushing his heart with the Judgement Chain, it left him disillusioned as to what killing felt like. He thought it would be an overly warm feeling that seared through him and left him breathless with victory, instead he had been left cold as he dug a grave for the giant he had brought down. Back then he'd thought he hadn't learned anything useful, but now he knew better. Uvogin had taught him just how completely empty his victory would be and legitimized the concerns Kurapika's nen teacher had voiced back in the forest.   
  
Phinks had been easier, in a way. That time he'd had a good idea what murder felt like and it was easier to interrogate the man held in chains. Kurapika had smacked him around hard enough that even now he could sometimes feel the man's cheekbones under his palms, warm and damp from exertion as he refused to give any information on the troupe, any information on the whereabouts of his friends or their abilities, even their names were treasured information he refused to release. On pain of death. Kurapika had glowered down at him in the darkness of that shack in the slums and crushed his heart without so much as batting an eye.   
  
Franklin was where he learned cruelty, vile desires followed through with the rush that came from a fight. "You might as well talk to me, I'm the last person who's ever going to see your face." "I'm not going to leave them a body to find, they'll only know you're dead when the months pass and you never tell them where you are." He'd gotten no response, and it made him even more violent until another spider was crushed beneath his hands.   
  
He avoided thinking too hard about it while awake, so they snuck up on him in his dreams. Cold hands of the dead snagged his clothes, his hair, and brought him to the ground where he could smell their rancid breath creeping up from beneath the dirt. Whatever they said to him on those nights frightened him too much to remember upon waking, drenched once more with the signs of unrest. Many times he had stumbled from his bed into the shower to claw a layer of filth and skin off his body, sure that his sweat was someone else's blood and too afraid to open his eyes to check. It left him where he was now; sick.

On top of this, he had found out Hisoka was also killing off the Troupe, gruesomely and without any sense of mercy. He'd seen some footage of the magician brutalizing one of the new members that Kurapika didn't recognize, without warning and in such a way that he made quite the mess before launching a card into the camera lense. Competition was the last thing Kurapika needed. The knowledge that Hisoka might beat him to the punch, kill his enemies before he could, only drove him further into his frantic search for the spiders. He found himself meeting Hisoka in the abandoned carnival grounds in York New now and then to beg him not to rip this out from under him, to let him have this revenge, only to wake up pleading with air. He at the very least had the presence of mind to be disgusted with himself afterwards.

Kurapika had tracked Feitan down to a town that sat between two mountains where the surrounding landscape was made up mostly of meadows, the occasional copse the only real place to hide. Feitan was being sloppy, the clues were too obvious, and it filled him with a budding sense of unease. He was being baited to this place, perhaps because the spider thought he could win in a one-on-one fight with Kurapika or because he had a death wish. Either way Kurapika was going to squash him like he had the others, he could feel murder in his veins like a shot of something wicked. It kept him focused and functional enough to consider his options, to get lost in the fantasy that maybe this time would be different, this time he would feel the rush of accomplishment and relief he desperately longed for.

The town was a quiet one with kind but private citizens who seemed wary of him. Not enough to bar him from staying in their single motel, though he could feel eyes on him when he walked around playing the part of a traveler in need of some down time. He couldn't blame them, he must look horrible with his increasingly ratty clothes, the dark smudges under his eyes, and the hair that hung drab and pale down to his shoulders. He'd been meaning to cut it lately but couldn't find it within himself to spend the energy on anything besides staring at screens until his eyes ached or following leads to different parts of the continent.

Kurapika woke up early from a gut feeling, a brush at the edge of his En, in the violet hours of the morning. The motel room was dark, the only lights cast by the LEDs of the coffee machine and the TV remote, and it was quiet except for the breeze pushing at the window above the air unit. He sat up warily to feel further out and got a harsh chill up his spine when his reaching gave him the sensation of burning oil. As he'd thought, this was not a slip-up; Feitan was waiting for him here and he may not be patient enough to wait for the sun to rise. In fact, Kurapika was sure that if he didn't head out now he would be dragged into the street for this fight.    
  
No, no he didn't need the locals growing concerned. He flipped the sheet off his body and walked into the tiny bathroom to splash icy water on his face to shock himself into further alertness. Once dressed, he stepped out into the chilly pre-dawn air and started the walk away from civilization. It was a hike to get to the nearest open field, and a longer walk still to a place just past a small stand of birch trees that stood like bright bones in the rising sun. The weather was still cold enough that he could see his breath clouding around his face before being swept away in front of him, the breeze at his back. He felt like he was walking to a gallows.

A figure stood in sharp relief as the sun's rays spread long fingers of light just over the horizon, and Kurapika knew this was his enemy. His robes blew in the wind and light shone off the sword in his hand. Cocky, but not stupid. Feitan had been there to massacre his clan and he was there to see his friends dead by Kurapika's chains, he knew the danger he was in. Kurapika wondered what they thought of him. 'The Chain Bastard' gave him a good clue how they felt before when he was a nuisance, someone who got the better of one of their members, but what about now when he had three of their ghosts following him around?

Kurapika brought his hands up to massage the cold out of his right knuckles, the metal from his ever-present chains responsible for the constant ache in the flesh beneath them. The only way he was ever free of them was to put himself into a state of Zetsu, and that wasn't something he could afford to do anymore. So they remained, a constant source of noise and discomfort that had grown almost relaxing over the years. The chains meant he was still following his goals, ready to take on his hunt, even if it occasionally added to his budding sense of unreality to hear the chains clink even in sleep. He allowed his chains to manifest, at least in part, sticking with the dowsing chain for combat.

Feitan tilted his head, expression unreadable at this distance, and let Kurapika come closer before showing off his speed by rushing him, sword poised. Just as Kurapika was ready to dodge and loop some chain around his adversary, he disappeared, popping back up a few feet to the left. When he spoke, it was in a tone that suggested all the smugness his hidden face could not. “You're a conjurer, not a manipulator.”

Cryptic, Kurapika didn't like it one bit and he lashed his chains towards his opponent like a whip, ready on his feet to respond to whichever direction Feitan went in. That Feitan knew what type of Nen he used wasn't the main problem, he could have deduced it from the murders or from when Pakunoda died, but he had a gut feeling that wasn't what this was about. Again, Feitan spoke up from Kurapika's blind spot.

“Not that only, a specialist too.” He barely dodged in time to avoid being stabbed in the shoulder and he used the momentum to put some distance between the two of them.

“Why are you telling me, knowing how my abilities work won't keep them from beating you.” Kurapika slung his chains again with a harsh toss of his arm, but again Feitan was too swift. He used his ears instead to wait for the change of air pressure to tell him which way to jump, and wound up launching himself straight up and over Feitan’s head to avoid the next jab. This time he succeeded in getting a loop around his sword arm as well as his throat, leaving them imperceptible for now.

“Where you think I got it? The air?” He slashed the air with his sword impatiently before disappearing yet again only to reappear closer, catching Kurapika in the jaw with the hilt. It sent him stumbling back until he got his wits about himself just in time to block the punch aimed at his side. “Found a homeless man camping, he knew too.”

Kurapika yanked on the chains around Feitan with an enraged snarl and dragged him off balance until he was close enough to kick in the gut. “You're hurting my friends now? If you mean to taunt me I hope you know it's the last thing you'll do.” He let the chains constrict Feitan's movements, not having nearly enough on him to bind him securely.

“He dead now.” Feitan's eyes narrowed in an obscured grin, and he rushed Kurapika with his sword. The distance was too short, dodging this only led to a deep wound along his side and Feitan throwing them both into the dirt. The swordsman got a hand around Kurapika's throat and squeezed hard, grinding his blond hair into the dirt. “Don't matter, you'll die too. Eventually.”

Reaching up to retaliate was a mistake Feitan made full use of, grabbing his wrist and twisting until it snapped. Unable to pull air into his lungs to scream, Kurapika simply paled as his whole body tensed up. Feitan pulled his broken wrist back until Kurapika saw spots at the edges of his vision and was digging his heels deep into the dirt under him, and then he let go with both hands to sit up. Kurapika got only a few moments to breathe before his attacker had a knife jammed into his shoulder. This time he puffed out a winded yelp and punched Feitan in the face with his usable arm.

His hand was seized on the back draw as he prepared to strike again, and his fist was forcibly opened up so the fingers could be spread, one captured more blatantly than the others. “Cry. Won't kill your exam friends, maybe.” Kurapika's eyes rolled back as his pointer nail was ripped out of it's bed. “Maybe you cry, and they die anyway.” His middle nail was next to go and he was finding it difficult to breathe through the pain.

Perhaps if he wasn't bone tired and barely running on fumes he could fight out of this, but he could feel his body shaking with the strain to stay conscious after the energy expenditure of the fight and now torture on top of everything else. The nail on his ring finger was tugged on, pushed up just enough to peek under. Then Feitan did it again, reveling in the way Kurapika’s spine curved. He leaned closer over Kurapika and pulled the captive hand up to his heart, the texture of his robes shockingly coarse. “Did your mom like this, you don't cry though.” The nail came up slowly as Kurapika's vision tunneled.

“Keep your mouth shut-” His leg kicked out as Feitan grabbed the bloody tip of his finger and pressed down upon the raw flesh. “Fuck!”

“You see bodies? Carved up nice, skin peeled nice. Pretty, better bloody. She screamed a lot, then I cut her throat, right through spine.” Feitan's eyes glittered in the early dawn, his black hair shining gold around the edges, thick loose hairs nearly transparent with it. Kurapika's eyes were already lit up, but then he saw red, and then he felt something crunch under the stiff palm of his bloodied hand. Feitan's eyes widened, and he almost thought it was a trick of his pain-addled imagination, but then the bandana over Feitan's face began to grow dark. Blood seeped through the cloth as he brought a hand first to his broken esophagus, then falteringly to Kurapika's, nails digging in deep and ragged to rend the flesh.

He died ugly and fell heavily onto Kurapika's chest, where he stayed until the other fighter could push him over and sit up. The Spider was rolled onto his back as his expression glazed, still startlingly intent. Normally this was when Kurapika would dig a new grave and hide all evidence of what he'd done, as if enough feet of soil could keep the ghosts in. Not this time. This time he curled in on himself to think back on the café he'd been in when the news had broken with all the banality of a lost pet announcement, spoiling the taste of his treat and leaving him orphaned at age twelve. They had shown a short clip of the bodies, and it was enough to sear its four seconds into his mind permanently. Feitan had been the one then, the one who cut them to pieces, the one who left the bodies disfigured.

Then why did killing him feel like an acid bath?

Why did giving these monsters the punishment they deserved feel like taking a step further back from the world with each kill? He reached up and ripped the knife out of his shoulder with a shudder, and wondered if it was poisoned. He stood up, turned towards town, and sent Leorio the address of the motel. As he found himself wandering through the morning work crowd with his head nearly spinning on his shoulders, struggling to keep his eyes open and his feet in order, he decided that yes the knife had most certainly been poisoned. Either his state of dishevelment went unnoticed or he was too out of it to realize what expressions people were making at him, and when he tried to understand any face in the crowd and found that he couldn't differentiate between people, he guessed it was the latter.

The moment he got in the door of his room he stumbled in a barely contained fall to the floor, entire body screaming but nothing giving him useful input. He was on the verge of passing out some million years later when he heard the door open behind him.

 

\---

 

Leorio definitely went over the speed limit about ten miles back, foot jammed into the gas pedal as he took the interstate to wherever the hell this location was Kurapika had sent him. That guy was lucky Leorio would do just about anything for him, he had an exam coming up in little over a week and he really should be studying. Instead he was sweating from worry. He doesn't answer his phone for years and now suddenly he wants Leorio to meet up with him, likely for some ridiculous plan where they kidnap a criminal and Leorio has to make sure he doesn't commit murder in broad daylight.

His stomach clenched. Worried on an empty tank, only coffee in his system since he'd gotten up the moment he heard the tone he'd given only to Kurapika's number. He had better be ready for a fight because Leorio was going to kill him. Oh god what if he's dead, what if that was the last place he'd been before being-

Leorio took in a deep breath and held it, letting it back out slowly. This was going to be fine. Kurapika wasn't answering his phone because he can't hear it, or something. He dried his forehead off on his sleeve, then pushed his hair back from where it was hanging limp and ungelled in his face. Kurapika was fine, because he was Kurapika and no matter what he at least looked like he had everything planned out and prepared for. Although… That he called for help, no, not help but assistance, Leorio's presence anyway, was not a good sign.

When he got to the motel he shut the car off and took another calming breath. Okay, so find out which room he's in and then do damage control, don't try to figure things out until he actually had some idea of what was going on. He got out of the car and turned towards the office as he shut his door, and immediately noticed the trail of blood leading to one room. Leorio's heart jumped into his throat as he scrambled to the door and opened it easily, noting that Kurapika had pulled the upper latch out as if for the housekeeper. Once he was inside, Leorio saw why.

Kurapika was laying face down on the floor with one elbow bent as if he were trying to push himself up and couldn't. Upon seeing him tremble, Leorio realized he was in fact unable to lift himself, and quickly rushed to help him turn over and lay back down. “Hey hey hey, what the hell Kurapika? What's wrong, are you just worn out or is this blood loss?” 

“Poison. I can't…” He opened his hand and failed to lift it very far. He couldn't move, so probably some kind of paralysis, which Leorio was not in any way prepared for. He didn't have anything for the obvious lost blood, he'd have to take Kurapika to a hospital. Leorio nodded to his own train of thought and maneuvered his arms under his friend's body, lifting him up like a child and carrying him out to the passenger side seat. He pulled the lever for the seat to lean it back before buckling Kurapika and jogging around to the driver's side.

“It's going to be fine.” If he said it enough in a determined enough manner, maybe the divine mother would put in a word for him with the angels. Speed his wagon or some shit. His hand itched to slip into his shirt and feel the beads below, but both hands were securely clamped down on the wheel. “I'm taking you to a hospital.”

Kurapika breathed with a shudder and struggled to look at Leorio. “No. Just you.”

“Just me my ass! You think I can fix any of this? I'm a fucking pediatrician not a war medic.” He was so outraged he turned to yell at Kurapika, swerving violently until he focused on the road again.

“Please, please…” The words just repeated even as they faded below audible range. Kurapika looked horrific. He was thin, more pallid than his norm, and he was currently begging Leorio to take care of this situation alone. It didn't fill him with a whole lot of confidence.

Leorio rallied all the calm at his disposal and gripped the wheel tighter, letting go only to shift gears. “If your heart stops,” he paused, both for effect and because the thought bothered him. “There's nothing I can do to fix it. You are paralyzed, bleeding out, and delirious, how am I supposed to…” He blinked furiously.

His passenger was quiet for a beat too long, enough to make Leorio glance over to see if he was still conscious. “Leorio please not a hospital. I just need you to watch me.” He sounded more put together this time, but his eyes were closed in concentration, obviously giving more energy to sounding fine than letting his body rest.

Leorio looked back at the road, hating how it blurred, and decelerated with a curse. He pulled over and got his medical kit out of the trunk so he could disinfect and bandage Kurapika up tight, his own hands unsteady.

 

\---

 

The clock in the kitchen was slow, Kurapika had discovered. It blinked 2:55 at him from across the room in a way that distracted him, kept his attention as he sat at Leorio's dining table and didn't drink his glass of ice water. Leorio had a book open to study from, a handful of notes scattered across the table and music playing from his phone. Kurapika had blocked out the music and was watching the stove clock chase the true time in chartreuse blinks, cold condensation seeping over his fingers from where he held his glass. The wind blew in from the window and ruffled the papers and his hair, drawing his attention away from the clock to notice Leorio was only pretending to focus on his book.

He hadn't turned a page for half an hour, and Kurapika had only noticed in that moment. This was the third day in Leorio's apartment, and apparently he was interesting or worrisome enough to distract Leorio from the studying he needed to do. “What.”

Leorio took the pen out of his mouth, something he seemed to do habitually, and pointed it at Kurapika. “Drink. You're still extremely dehydrated and I don't have the supplies to give you an IV so work with me here.”

“I'm fine.” He turned to look at the clock again, away from the concerned gaze of his friend.

“You contacted me and asked me to watch you, because you won't go to a hospital. Just drink your water. Stop telling me you're fine, I know and you know it's a stupid lie that doesn't make either of us feel better.” He shut his book after putting a card in to mark his place, expression tight.

“I asked you to make sure I didn't die, not play house. I'm not your sick child.” He rubbed the glass so more water would cascade along his knuckles. “Open your book.”

“Drink your water.”

Kurapika turned a simmering glare towards him and brought the glass to his lips. The moment the water touched his tongue he closed his eyes, drinking three fourths of the glass down without pausing. Only tilting his head back far enough to aggravate his sore neck stopped him, sending him into a coughing fit as he set the glass back down.

“Christ, I didn't mean all at once…” Leorio sighed and rubbed at a muscle in his neck, tension more prevalent in his face when he pressed a little higher. “Will you eat if I grab something from the corner store?”

“Fine.” Kurapika wiped his mouth with his sleeve pulled over his wrist and watched Leorio get up, grab his keys, and leave. He waited as long as it would take for him to get downstairs and into his car, then he got up and grabbed his bag from beside the couch, where he had been sleeping. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened the door and found Leorio reaching for the handle.

“I… Forgot my wallet, uh.” He noticed the strap on Kurapika's shoulder and clenched his jaw, standing aside as his gaze shifted to the top of the threshold. “I don't figure you were trying to catch up to me.”

Kurapika wet his lips and stepped out into the open-air hallway. “No. I was going for a walk.”

“Ah.” Leorio went inside and came out a minute later, poorly hiding his surprise that Kurapika hadn't disappeared yet. “Are you coming with?” He deflated a little as Kurapika shook his head.

“I'll walk you to your car."

And he did, walking beside him down the stairs to the parking lot. Leorio got inside his car and shut the door, window rolling down so he could lean out over the edge and speak. “How long are you going for a walk?” Kurapika shrugged, not inclined to even consider whether he would be coming back or not.

In the end he only left for a few hours, returning to the apartment to eat and drink some more water. This time he wound up spacing out after pulling his phone out to do something, but forgot what he intended to do and simply stared at his lock screen until it went black. He flinched from his own reflection, which of course got Leorio's attention.

“I need to check your shoulder and make sure that poison was only meant to paralyze you.” He was clearly worried, although Kurapika doubted it was only about his wound. He nodded and stayed on the couch while Leorio brought over some fresh bandages and disinfectant. He reached out to undo Kurapika's shirt, only to have his hands shoved aside so Kurapika could do it himself, eyes trained on his task. Leorio watched his face and carefully slid his hand under one half of the shirt to pull it aside, fingertips barely grazing the skin as he revealed the bandages and Kurapika's shoulder. They were quiet as he pulled the tape away and looked over the wound, cleaning and re-bandaging it before Kurapika got up to walk away as he did his shirt back up. Leorio watched him go, confused.

“Well, alright. You're welcome then.” His worry was beginning to compress into anger, a frustration that showed more and more as the situation degraded. “Your shoulder's healing just fine, you can change your own bandages now.”

“I could have changed them myself previously, but you would have insisted on looking for yourself.” Kurapika's tone started out smooth but then quickly bent into something more sullen.

“Yeah, because I'm the one with actual medical training and also you asked me to look after you.” He stood up to follow Kurapika into the kitchen, voice raising as he was faced with the man's back.

“I only asked you to do that while I was poisoned and bleeding, Now I am neither and I don't need to be coddled.” Kurapika tugged at the hem of his shirt as he decided if he wanted to bother tucking it in.

“You-” Kurapika turned his head to watch out of the corner of his eye as Leorio brought his hands up, clenching them near his chest. “You are so frustrating, you know that? What's your problem? You go radio silent for years, years! Then just poof back in because it's convenient? Do you think I care so little for you that I can keep you from drowning on your own saliva and then send you on your way, no questions asked?"

“Stop.” Kurapika turned fully in order to face him, his stance stiff.

“No! No, fuck you, I've kept my mouth shut this whole time because I didn't want you to bolt while you were still freshly wounded. Where have you been this whole time? Who even stabbed you? I tried talking to the Nostrade house through Melody and she didn't know where you were either, you just vanished! I thought you were dead, I thought maybe you, you did something crazy and- no, no no don't run out.” Kurapika pushed past him to pick his bag back up, ignoring him until Leorio tugged at his elbow with an open hand, spinning him around but not holding him. Kurapika pushed his arm away regardless.

“Thank you for your hospitality.” He made for the door and let it swing shut behind him, making it to the bottom of the stairs before bolting.

The evening was comparatively warm and made Kurapika's run uncomfortable, leaving the street the apartment was on and heading down another, then another, essentially hoping that if he got lost it would mean Leorio wouldn't find him either. He slowed down once he found a bus stop to catch his breath at, sitting down in the shelter and covering his face.

He didn't have to be such an unsociable mess, he could just talk to Leorio like the grown adult he was. Except that it had felt like wasps were swarming under his clothes, waiting to sting him at any moment the entire time he'd been in Leorio's home. He was breathing shallow and too quick, and when a hand lightly pressed against his back he flinched hard and brought up his arm to block an attack that never came.

Leorio slowly sat down on the bench beside him, hands up and open, as if he were surrendering to him. “Hey, I'm sorry. Are you okay?”

No of course he wasn't, did he look okay? Kurapika was unable to respond in any organized manner so he shook his head.

“That's fine, that's fine.” Kurapika had calmed only enough to see that Leorio was also breathing hard, having run after him. “I'm not going to force you to stay, you know you can leave whenever you want. But I can't just leave you to freak out in a public bus shelter okay? Come be an unmanageable asshole where you aren't likely to get mugged.”

Kurapika got his heart rate back into a more reasonable range before nodding. He let Leorio help him up, and spent the walk back to the apartment getting himself under control once again.


	3. Chapter Two: Prose And Cons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'll wait until next week to post chapter two" I'm a liar sometimes.

The apartment was drafty, quite the opposite of soundproof, and had a few stains that might have been blood at one time, but it was safe and Leorio made sure that it was clean. It was odd to think of Leorio as a tidy person, with his books everywhere and being a bachelor, but it seemed he had an appreciation for the term "sterile" and how close he could get to its definition without making his home unwelcoming. It was in fact very welcoming. He placed cheap candles with scented oils rubbed into them in places they would be free to burn, and he chose deep colors to decorate with, be it posters or blankets or the occasional pillow.

It was quickly becoming stifling how emotionally warm he was. Kurapika could hardly stand to let the man look his wounds over, outright refused to let him do any other check ups, and resolutely avoided eye contact. Then one day he picked up his things and left. He needed to think, he needed to breathe, anything that would center his mind on his tasks and not worldly comforts. He left and chose to spend the night in the city park, his back against a support beam for the playground over his head.

Out here he could think about the next spider he would dispatch, the next pair of eyes he would track down and bring to his growing shrine. His family, friends, they deserved so much better than what he could give them, but at least maybe it would ease their restless spirits. As he laid his family to rest, he gained new ghosts to watch over him, dig into his mind and remind him that he was a murderer just as his vanquished enemies once were. He pulled his jacket tighter and stared at the rubber texture beneath him, letting it swirl out into meaningless shapes in the darkness. The park was illuminated some distance away from him by orange street lights, the light diffusing in the swirling fog that gently blanketed the area, obscuring him from anyone who might not approve of transients.

He wondered if Leorio would look for him or keep to his word about letting him go. He wondered if it hurt Leorio, to know he couldn't just make this better. He should stop thinking about it, he didn't need to involve him in his life any more than he already had, for both their sake. He reached out to rub the chains on his knuckles and felt his head droop, felt the tension ease out of his body...

Then there was movement as something reached out and took his hand, resting callused fingers over his. Another hand grabbed his jacket and pulled him sideways, so that he could look up from the ground at the swordsman from weeks earlier. Feitan gurgled at him, putting a hand around Kurapika's throat so that he would understand, so that he would know what it's like not to breathe. The crushing sensation was unbearable, and he found himself absolutely paralyzed as his vision spun.

With a jolt he sat up, breathing so hard the cold air needled his lungs, and he realized the sun was coming up. He looked around wildly and noticed a jogger with her dog watching him in alarm, clutching tightly at the leash. He watched her back and brought a hand up to his throat to make sure it was undamaged, and looked around again as if Feitan might come out from the shadows. He picked himself up off the rubber matting and readjusted the strap of his bag, unsure if he was sweating or if it was just dew. After giving the jogger a final glance he quickly left the playground, heading towards the nearest café. There was a weight in his chest that didn't bode well and he would do well to put something warm in his body.

Something warm turned out to be double shot of espresso with nothing added to it, something to drag him out of the claws sleep had anchored in his mind. The resulting zing was muted compared to what it might do for another person less dependent on caffeine to function, but it was enough to get him moving. As the weight in his chest became more noticeable, his feet found their way to Leorio's front door, and his hands found their way to the handle, and he let himself inside with a vague unease over the door being unlocked.

Leorio was awake and sitting at the table with his head propped up by one hand, looking surprised but relieved to see him. “Kurapika you… Look terrible. Where did you sleep last night, on the ground?” Kurapika didn't answer him, instead coming over to sit at his table and finally, with a good deal of discomfort, cough into his fist.

“I needed to get my thoughts together.” And he did, enough to have a fully formed nightmare about the man he murdered.

“You've come back with a damn cold, or worse. You need to let me check that out and preferably before you get me sick too, I can't afford to miss class tomorrow.” He shut his book and got up, going into the bathroom to bring out cold syrup and a stethoscope. “Please don't fight me on this.”

Kurapika leaned away from him but didn't verbally protest as Leorio stuck the metal piece down his shirt, cold enough to make goosebumps stand up painfully on his flesh. He didn't need to be asked to breathe in deep, but he also couldn't be asked to stop from coughing miserably about halfway through. Leorio pulled away while he covered his face with both hands, eyes screwed shut. Kurapika felt a warm hand rub his back in circles, between his shoulder blades, and he sent a nasty look Leorio's way before he started coughing again. The hand pulled away, and eventually he was able to breathe again.

“Yeah, well, it goes without saying that you sound like shit, so let's just hope you don't get pneumonia.” Leorio let the stethoscope hang from his neck as he got out a spoon for kurapika to use, only to turn around and see Kurapika drink straight from the bottle. His arm fell to his side as he watched, only exhaustion showing on his face for a moment. “You know I have to wipe your gross sickness germs off that bottle now right?”

Kurapika shrugged, guilt settling in his gut despite the flippant attitude. He'd imagined Leorio trying to spoon feed him and had a moment of misplaced rebellion. “I'm sorry.”

“Please stay, and rest, and when you actually know where you're going you can leave.” Leorio sounded concerned as he cleaned the bottle off and took it back to the bathroom. He used the spoon to make some kind of hot drink with honey and vinegar, and set the concoction on the table before Kurapika. “Mom taught me this, it'll help. The apple cider vinegar helps you get better while the honey soothes your throat, the hot water dissolves it all and tones down the vinegar.”

Kurapika picked up the mug and inhaled the steam slowly, eyes sliding to look over at Leorio standing so near. This was too close, again, but it was Leorio's desire to be close and keep him warm that was enabling him to get back to his plan of action. So, he brought the painted ceramic to his lips and took a small sip, mouth watering as the vinegar washed over his taste buds. After another sip, he could feel some of the scratch leave his throat, and the warmth settled heavier than the coffee had. He wondered if Leorio had imbued the drink with nen, either on purpose or by accident, or if it was just the ingredients. “Is that really all that's in this?”

“Yeah, maybe whatever minerals and chemicals stay after distilling the water in the fridge.” He scratched his neck as he sat down by his books again, and opened the one with a graphically dissected head on the cover. Kurapika supposed you became desensitized to gore early on if you wanted to practice medicine. No matter how much he'd seen or done, it still bothered him.

A moment later Leorio looked up, chewing his lip until Kurapika sighed. “What?”

“How's your hand?” He pointed at the one missing a few fingernails, which had been carefully wrapped to prevent bumping the open nail beds on any unclean surfaces. It was a challenge to clean and deal with, but hurt less than his shoulder. He almost forgot about it sometimes.

“It's healing, no infections. I'm sure if Feitan had me as a prisoner they would be worse.” Kurapika would in total be worse, as it was he considered himself to be managing just fine. “The nails haven't started growing back yet, at least not visibly.”

“Give it a few months, they take a while after medical removal, I can't really vouch for… Having them peeled off. If the nail matrix is still fine then they'll grow back. Otherwise uh, I guess you'll just get tougher skin where they were.” Leorio watched him a moment longer, then his eyes flicked to the table, then to his book. The resulting silence was broken only by the sound of pages being turned and the occasional coughing fit.

After finishing his drink, Kurapika put the mug in the sink and let his weary body sink onto the couch to rest. The caffeine from earlier was still keeping him on edge, so he turned on the news and watched it at a low enough volume it wouldn't disturb Leorio. He drifted in and out of focus, watching the weather turn to politics, then current affairs, then local news. When his eyes next opened he realized he had made the news, although not by name.

“An unidentified body has been found recently that matched the description of a member of the feared gang, The Phantom Troupe. Located monday in a field just outside the city limits of Hanover by a hiker, they found signs of a struggle and DNA that didn't match the victim, but which also didn't match anyone on record. Investigators are looking into the murder, but believe it was a crime of passion, not chance.”

Kurapika watched numbly as the reporter slid right on to the next topic with a strange sense of loss, an echo of the ache that came after killing any of the spiders. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and let himself drift off into a solid sleep for a few hours.

Over the next few weeks, Kurapika found it difficult to stay in the apartment. He still didn't know where he wanted to go, which eyes to go after, and every time he checked his email for any of his sources he instead found yet another message from Melody, from Basho, from the Nostrade head himself, Light, asking him to come back and run the bodyguarding business again. He deleted them each time, bitter for the lack of useful information. He finally left again and didn't come back for a few days, only returning when he realized he left his heavier jacket in the apartment, one he had salvaged from his village. When he let himself in, Leorio acted like he never left. If it bothered him it only showed in the tight expressions he sent Kurapika's way when his cough resurfaced or his hands shook too much while he ate.

Maddening. It only forced him to leave again, this time with the jacket and his wallet, but without the bag. He spent more time out of the house stalking the city streets than he did even thinking of himself as a human with needs like food and shelter. He was stressing Leorio out, he knew it, but Leorio was in turn making him sick from all his concern. He was aware enough to realize being cared about wasn't supposed to hurt, but what could he do about it?

Perhaps he had been thinking out loud, or maybe Leorio had learned to read his mind, but within the day he had come home with an extra book. It was clothbound with dark blue fabric, a small golden inlay that looked like two layers of waves marked the front cover, and the pages were completely blank but numerous. Kurapika was surprised when it was handed to him, and after inspecting it he wet his lips. “A journal?”

“It doesn't matter what you put in it, but I think it could help. You won't talk to me, or anyone else, but I think you need to talk to someone, and if it can't be another person then at least let it be yourself.” He put his hands on his hips and watched as Kurapika looked the book over once more, drawing over the wave design with his pinky.

“I wouldn't know what to say, to myself or a book.”

“Talk about… Your journey, talk about your daily life, maybe talk about your family.” Kurapika stilled and Leorio paused for a moment. “Talk about your family, no one else has to read it but you'll have something. Y'know, it would be something physical.”

Kurapika remained silent and stared at the light reflecting off the golden inlay. His family, the family who didn't exist anymore even in history. An undocumented people and he was the only one left alive who could memorialize them, and the shrine of eyes wouldn't tell a story, simply stand as a mausoleum. He blinked and focused on the way a few tears dripped onto the cover, darkening the blue to black.

“Perhaps I will.”

 

\---

 

_The Kurta tribe lived in the forest for all my life, I didn't know any other place because even though they moved around a lot I was only a child and they hadn't moved since I was born at least. We had an elder who was in charge of everything, and we lived in family units in huts. I lived with my parents and their parents and my aunt who had no lover. I do not remember my mother's name. I don't remember what I used to do for fun or chores. I can't remember a lot of things._

 

\---

 

The sun was rising, shining in through the eastern window as Kurapika sat at the kitchen table, alone in the house. That's the only reason he let himself rest his face in his hands, elbows on the tabletop, and weep silently. He couldn't think around the intense ache in his chest, a harsh squeeze like his heart was trying to cringe into itself. He had forgotten too much and now he was never going to fill this book up, this wasn't going to mean anything. He straightened up and wiped his hands on his pants, then picked up his pen again to scribble viciously across the handwritten paragraph until the words were unreadable and he'd left an impression on the page behind it. It didn't soothe the ache of loss, but some of the guilt eased off.

Once he was finished defacing his own work he leaned back so his spine ground against the slats in his chair, and surveyed the abstract ink piece that was once words. It was ugly and jagged, sharp edged, and it was dark enough to remind him of a book about black holes he had read when he was younger. They ate up everything, including light. They ate time. Perhaps he wasn't so dissimilar to a black hole, perhaps neither were the Troupe. He closed the book and set his pen gently on top before putting his head down. He stayed there until Leorio got home.

The hand between his shoulder blades woke him from the nap he'd sunk into and he looked up through his hair slowly, expression neutral. Leorio lifted a bag that smelled like grease, salt, and spices. “I got takeout for lunch, I don't have to go back to campus until three.” Kurapika glance at the clock and saw that it was eleven. No, twelve, it's slow. He had skipped breakfast and his body appreciated the appearance of food more than he really felt it should.

“I assume you brought some for me as well or you wouldn't be waving it under my nose.” His words had the desired effect of making Leorio smile, as well as set the brown bag down and start pulling out plastic-topped tin containers full of vegetables, noodles, and beef. He pushed the cloth journal to the side to take one of the containers and a plastic fork.

The afternoon passed in relative silence before Leorio went back to class, and Kurapika pulled the book over to try again. If he could document one thing at a time, one thing he remembered, then eventually he would have something worth keeping. Possibly sharing.

 

\---

 

_The Kurta village was in the forests of the Lusko province, lead by the oldest individuals but mostly one man in particular. They never stayed in one place for very long, usually long enough to get noticed by the surrounding cities before moving on to camp elsewhere. There were two main groups of people; those with thinner and lighter colored hair and skin, and those with darker complexions and monolids, but I don't know who they were before merging to form the clan. They mixed, as is evident in me and a few of my friends, and had the red eyes evenly throughout. Some other people joined the clan through marriage, but were completely different and did not have the eyes. Our way of dressing would be considered modest, usually involving underclothes that covered the whole body below the neck, and over clothes that flowed away from the body at the shoulders and waist._

 

\---

 

He put his pen down again, this time with a level head and only a dull ache to signify the feeling of loss. If he thought about this as if he were documenting a place he'd been instead of a place he lost, then perhaps he'd be able to get through it without ripping every page out and burning it. He'd read enough books about other civilizations, current and ancient, he knew the writing styles and general order of events.

Kurapika sighed and closed his book, then slid out of the chair onto his feet. He pulled his phone out to check his messages and deleted yet another request from the Nostrades. Perhaps he should respond to someone, before they came looking for him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get sucked into that line of work again. He hadn't needed to work in a long time but maybe a schedule would help him keep his head on straight. Failing that it would excuse him from Leorio's frequent supervision.

He pocketed his phone and decided to check on the state of the fridge, then the cabinets. They were low on food, which was as good a chance as any to pull his own weight. Leorio got home in an hour, that left him plenty of time to decide what he wanted for dinner and where to get what he needed.

He wrote out a list on a sheet of college rule that had been left on the table and folded it up to put in his pocket, and watched the news while he waited rather impatiently for Leorio to come home. There was an accident on Walten’s street that was being cleaned up, and a string of thieveries from people's yards, but nothing much of interest, nothing to point him towards the next Troupe member. There wasn't even anything useful about Hisoka, and he'd been showing up like cryptid sightings the last couple years. The interruption Leorio brought as he came through the door was a welcome one, and he seemed confused but not unpleasantly so as Kurapika bounced up from the couch and met him in the kitchen.

“We need to go shopping, tonight preferably. I'll pay but I want to make sure I get things you'll actually want to eat.” That he didn't want Leorio to think he was being too nice was only partially unreasonable, if he laid it on too thick he might be accused of being patronizing. But, Leorio only tilted his head back and failed to hold in a smirk.

“Feeling more communal? Alright, maybe we'll pass by a lobster I can claim to be desperate for.” He set his school bag down in the chair he normally inhabited at the kitchen table, then checked for his apartment keys and wallet before motioning for Kurapika to lead the way.

“You really are an opportunist, hunh?” Kurapika stepped past him into the hall, and headed out to the marketplace with Leorio close behind. There were stalls set up lining the street closer to the downtown area showing off fruits, vegetables, preserves, and baked treats as well as clothes and other odds and ends. It was similar to where he'd been as a child in Lusko Province, and he was vaguely tempted to look over his shoulder at Leorio to check that he was still himself and not a much younger, brighter person who no longer existed. Kurapika contained the fantasy and dismissed it as easily as it came.

“I see you've found the market, this place gets pretty interesting after dark and on holidays, maybe if you stick around long enough you'll get to see the fireworks stall.” Leorio lived in the area but still seemed intrigued by the sights, as well as the people milling about. His eyes followed the path of someone in a yellow sundress and Kurapika didn't bother to resist the way his own eyes rolled.

“You know I have a mission to complete, I won't be staying too long.” He kept his tone regulated, he was doing this to repay Leorio for his kindness and hospitality, he shouldn't pick fights at the same time. He might anyway if the man kept looking into the crowd at pretty women, although this time when he followed Leorio's gaze it was to someone with a lot less curves in a similar level of covering. Kurapika turned back to the task at hand silently, and picked up a soft fruit that wasn't on his list but looked like an import from his home.

“Mission, yeah… Oh shit is that a heartfruit? I haven't seen those here in awhile, I'll get that if you don't.” Leorio picked up another heartfruit and tested it in his hand, which seemed to engulf the fruit rather than cradle it.

“It's all yours.” Kurapika moved on and collected things from his checklist, paying for them as he went from one vendor to the next. The evening was coming on, even with the days beginning to grow longer the nights still came soon enough, and as 6:30 rounded the sun was clearly on its way out.

It was as they were rounding one line of stalls that Kurapika caught sight of floral silks and beetle black hair. Leorio ran into him when he stopped too fast, so he grabbed him by the arm and steered him around until they were walking back the other way far enough to duck into the buildings beside the street.

“Hey- hey! Kurapika what?” That got him to look up long enough to make eye contact, and Leorio settled down at the hard, nervous expression he saw. “Alright, we're going this way now, are we going home?”

“Yes. No, we don't have to if you'd like to stop elsewhere, but yes that's where I'm heading.” Kurapika turned away from the sounds of the street, which was only growing as darkness crept into the city.

“Home is fine. You feel like explaining yourself yet?”

Kurapika kept his eyes on their surroundings, palms beginning to sweat into the material of the bags he carried. That had been Killua’s sibling, Kalluto. Kurapika knew he was affiliated with the Troupe because of someone from the hunter association who had been a little less irritating to work with than Hisoka. He wasn't a target, he had barely been a child when the Kurta had been annihilated, and on top of that he was the sibling of a very dear friend. But, that didn't mean he wouldn't attack Kurapika, or Leorio to get to Kurapika, in which case he would need to be dealt with. “Just saw someone I don't want to deal with right now, or ever actually.”

“How very like you, avoidant as ever. Is this an old flame? Maybe a debtor?” Leorio slouched in order to peer at him over his teashades, not smirking but still sounding playful. He reached out to take some of the bags from Kurapika's hands, freeing them possibly in the event of an altercation, or just to be kind.

“Just a possible heckler, I don't have any old flames.” Kurapika pretended not to notice the way Leorio glanced at him, his own eyes moving around to make sure they weren’t being followed. It seemed they were safe, for now.

The apartment in sight, He finally let himself relax and lead the way inside. It seemed this was no longer the best place to lay low, and if his being here would draw attention to someone he cared about, then perhaps it was time to move on. Or rather… He pulled out his phone to see yet another email, this time from Melody. Perhaps it was time to backtrack, retrace some easier steps for a while and get his head on straight.


	4. Chapter Three: In Sickness and in Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New: Art by Noirgladia on tumblr!! I love it so much I may die.

The routine was designed by Kurapika to keep himself busy, alert, and in charge. It was designed for him to throw every bit of himself into, turn the crank, and come out the end with all his pieces in the right order at the right size. It was designed for a version of himself, however, that no longer existed in reality.

  
He opened bleary eyes to a dark room, a headache already forming behind his eyes as the alarm beside him went off; buzzsaw set to staccato carving a ragged path through his skull until he turned his head slowly to face it. His hair ground between his scalp and the pillow, and red lights blinked harshly at him in time with the alarm. It stopped, finally, when he remembered his arms and reached out to press down on the top button.

  
Silence. A dark room and red lights still blinking at him, more request than demand now. It was five in the morning. Kurapika got out of bed.

  
While crossing the yawning expanse between him and the adjoined bathroom, his mind dredged up scraps of dreams from the night before. He recalled digging into the earth with his bare hands, either to search for or hide something, his movements frantic and prolonged. When he flipped the light switch on it was difficult not to check his nails over for dirt. Turning the faucet on was a shock of sound, and soon after a shock of cold water over his face pushed away the exhaustion dragging at his thoughts. Kurapika looked at the reflection of his hair, and his teeth, but not his face as a whole, only the parts, baring his teeth to the mirror a moment longer before beginning his morning ritual.

  
Brush teeth, brush hair and clip it back, shave if needed (rarely), apply concealer under his eyes and jaw, dress, unclip hair and leave to get coffee and food from the communal kitchen his team of bodyguards shared. This morning he had to add a few cough suppressants to his breakfast and take the time for an extra cup of coffee before he felt he was in acceptable shape to start the day, but it would pass. He ignored the look Basho gave him as he set his cup in the sink, looking over the schedule on his phone.

  
“You sleep at all, boss?” Basho, unlike Kurapika, seemed content with a minimum caffeine intake and the alertness in his voice was annoying in its own right. Kurapika contained his ire to a quick look of distaste.

  
“Please don't call me that, our boss is in the main house waiting for us to relieve his current watch.”

  
Basho shrugged, tilting his head back to finish his cup off. “Alright, but you're more his boss at this point than the other way around.” The trouble was that he was correct, so all Kurapika could respond with was a sardonic twist to the mouth as he opened the front door. Today they were relieving Melody and Linsen, and would in turn be relieved by two newer guards, Samso and Maradin, both of which had been hired in Kurapika’s absence. Basho had actually returned with him, having taken a break to go off on adventures he liked to talk about during meals and breaks, at length. It was as amusing as it was overbearing.

 

  
\---

 

  
“Kurapika you don't look well.” Melody’s voice was soft as ever, but worry sank in and irritated Kurapika, upsetting his concentration as he tried to figure out what Light’s next move should be considering the two other mob bosses he was currently trying to make a deal with. He looked up from his notepad and ignored the way his vision seemed to cling to afterimages.

  
“Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm really busy. Do you need something?” His skin felt like it was trying to crawl off his frame, cringing away from the very clothes on his body. The suits always made him feel this way, but never to this extent, never this long. Melody’s eyes narrowed but she didn't seem willing to turn this into a verbal skirmish.

  
“There's a bit of sheet music that's come up nearby that interests me, and I need to schedule time to investigate.” The way she said it meant it likely had to do with the cursed sonata, which meant he needed to reschedule. Doing otherwise would force her to search during her off time, which could lead to problems if she was held up or injured. So he nodded.

  
“Of course, I hope it's a positive lead.” He pulled his phone out to look over the schedule again, scrolling down to see who could be shuffled where. When he realized he was squinting he turned the brightness all the way down and waited for the pressure behind his eyes to stop throbbing. This cold was getting on his nerves, having stuck around now long past its welcome simply, it seemed, to punish him for trying to work a normal job. Well, compared to hunting people as bounty.

  
Melody ran her claws silently along the sleeve of her dress, the fabric a dark blue with a shimmer to it that further messed with Kurapika’s vision but would likely be quite pleasant to look at if he were well. “And have your leads recently been positive?”

  
Kurapika paused with his thumb over the screen, licking the backs of his teeth. They had talked about this before, she was there when he'd come back after burying Uvogin, she was aware how uncomfortable this topic was. “Occasionally.” He glanced up at her to see the soft smile pulling at her lips.

  
“I meant for your family’s eyes.” She brought her small hand to rest on the desk. “I'm not picking a fight with you, Kurapika, it's just small talk between Hunters.”

  
He felt a twinge of guilt that mixed in with the headache to create nausea and had to close his eyes for a moment. “I've actually found them, thank you, but I haven't properly honored them yet. Not the way I should-” he broke off to cough into his fist. When Melody leaned in with worry he waved her off. “I'm fine, it'll pass in a moment.”

  
He looked at his screen again and finalized the new schedule, one eye watering from the coughing fit.

 

  
\---

 

  
He was with Linsen today, although ‘with’ was a light term. He was with Light, going over recent spending and what things the Nostrades could get away with no longer putting money towards and which things left them no choice. Light still needed to keep up appearances, it was part of why he had been so adamant about Kurapika coming back, pushing to the top and getting where he needed to go was certainly one of the Hunter's more obvious skills.

  
“I can't just take my investment out of this casino or I'll get people coming around asking questions, you know, that… Are you listening to me?” The change in tone from plantitive to annoyed broke Kurapika out of the strange spell that had come over him, dragging his gaze towards the wall behind Light. His eyes slid back into focus and he cleared his throat.

  
“Yes of course, you were saying about the Tchokino’s investing in the same casino as you, go on.” He felt a little warm, sweat gathering at the places where his suit gripped him.

  
“Actually, I think it's coming up on lunch, we can continue this after I've met with some of Neon’s tutors.” He paused when Kurapika stood up slowly, head taking a while longer to lift than his shoulders. “And maybe you should get something to eat too, you got low blood sugar or something?”

  
“I believe it would be more beneficial for you to focus on yourself, rather than me.”

  
“And I think you're acting funny. I know everyone's got vices but if you're under the influence of anything while guarding and me, and, and advising me too then we're gonna have an issue.” Light peered at him until Kurapika straightened up, the movement making him feel disconnected from his body.

  
“It's just a cold, Mr. Nostrade. The only thing I'm on is Dayquil.” He fought the urge to push his fingers into his eyes, skull under enough pressure to crush a submarine.

  
“Then maybe you should take some time off and get on something a little stronger, you look like shit and you look like you're not all there. Go home, kid.” Light picked his jacket off the back of his desk chair and slipped his arms in, the sound suggesting silk lining. Kurapika couldn't ignore the feeling of being chided.

  
“I've been an adult for a while now, Mr. Nostrade, please. I will consider changing the schedule to allow it but we're down a person and working with a skeleton crew as it is-” He covered his mouth to cough when speaking proved too much for his sore throat. Light simply crossed his arms and glared at him in self righteousness.

  
“Go on and argue with me then, and if you can't then you'll do as I say as your fucking employer.” He waved Kurapika out the door ahead him as he left his office. Kurapika followed him to the front room and only finally left for the guard’s quarters after Linsen showed up and he had no real reason to stick around. He went to his room to sit down and catch his breath, already peeling out of the suit down to his undershirt before laying down with his feet still on the floor until his back stopped yelling at him. He hadn't even been aware that was in pain until he finally stopped moving, and then he was very aware of everything that hurt and ached and prickled.

  
He turned onto his side to cough, only getting up when he could feasibly walk into the kitchen without an altercation with the floor, and made himself some tea to drink at the communal table. This was, unfortunately, the perfect place for Basho and one of the new bodyguards, Maradin to watch him from the living room. Kurapika glanced at the clock on the stove and was surprised to see that the numbers were blue, which was foolishness, considering he hadn't been at Leorio’s nearly long enough for the green lights of his hour slow clock to be the first thing he expected.

  
Perhaps it was that he felt awful, and his last bout of sickness had been over in that apartment. Maybe he was just delirious, that would explain the way things left afterimages. He supposed that despite the medication he was taking to get through the day, he wasn't actually getting better. A few years ago he would have recovered from this within a few days, just focus his energy (his nen, though he didn't know it at the time) and he'd feel better expeditiously, but after outright abusing Emperor Time for so long his body, his energy, wasn't up to the task. He had definitely not counted on the toll it would take on him in the long run, but he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. If he used it for too long, he'd pass out for three times as long, if that carried over into total use over time then he was playing with more than his lifeforce, he was playing a losing game with the very integrity of his physical form. Kurapika propped his head up with the heel of his hand, which slid from his forehead into his left eye socket to push back the pain of his migraine.

  
It was Basho who spoke up eventually, maybe because he knew Kurapika better or because he was generally outgoing. “You should lay down boss, I'll make something that'll flush that cold right out of you.”

  
“I'm not the boss…” He sighed, giving it up. “And I'm not getting up until I've finished my tea, food and drink don't belong in the bedroom.” He was falling asleep at the table, however, and the next thing he was conscious of was lying on the couch with a cooling bowl of soup on the coffee table beside him. The TV was still on the game show from before but it featured a different set of contestants and turned down quieter, enough that he could hear the other two talking at the table. It appeared while he'd fallen asleep someone picked him up and swapped places with him. The sounds of dishes clinking came soon, then the rush of water as they were washed and set on the drying rack. Kurapika's eyelids drooped heavily despite how hungry he was, but he managed to sit up and eat his soup instead of passing back out. He'd have to thank Basho for the food, sometime when he was less out of it.

 

  
\---

 

  
“This is a little extreme.” Kurapika was laying in bed, having been helped there while someone called Leorio. He was in fact already looking Kurapika over with an expression that was too annoyed and concerned to get away with a teasing ‘I told you so’.

  
“You fell to the ground Kurapika, I've never seen you do that before.” Melody was back, had been for a couple days, and was leagues away from impressed with his progress. For his part he just shivered and grit his teeth as Leorio checked him over, then sat up away from him.

  
“And how long have you had this cold?” His tone suggested that no matter the answer he was going to get chewed out.

  
“It's not a cold is it?”

  
“It's fucking pneumonia, because you're insane and don't know how to slow down long enough to get over a regular cold.” He pushes his teashades up into his hair and scratched his temple. “So what, a week like this? Sick for a while before that ‘cause you caught a cold? Alright so everyone else either stayed away from you or has healthier immune systems or they'll get sick soon too, I'll let Nostrade know before we leave.”

  
“Excuse me, we?” Kurapika peered at him, expression fowl. He didn't miss the glance Leorio shot Melody. She was the one who answered.

  
“You can't work like this, so Light put me in charge of the schedule. You, um-”

  
“I'm fired.”

  
Kurapika closed his eyes and let his face relax. Alright. In a way he anticipated that, a Mafia Don can't have someone getting all his hired work sick, falling all over the place like an actor. It was still a frustration that made him want to tense every muscle in his body and yell for a while.

  
“You can come back, when you're actually healthy.”

  
“That's not really going to happen.” Kurapika didn't open his eyes, but he didn't have to in order to understand the flavor of silence he was greeted with. “At least, it seems that way.”

  
Leorio grunted softly in response, seemingly just to break the uncomfortable silence. “Are you going to agree to a hospital?”

  
“Absolutely not.”

  
“Will you let me help instead?”

  
Kurapika gave that a moment’s thought. Alone, this might never clear up, and he needed antibiotics anyway that Leorio could get for him. “Yes. Until I get well enough to come back.” He opened his eyes so he wouldn't nod off, and had to avert his gaze from the way Leorio was watching him, soft and worried, like just speaking to Kurapika was sandpaper to his heart. Perhaps Kurapika was more delirious than previously assumed.

  
Later in the evening he slowly gathered up his few personal items and got in Leorio's car to return to the apartment, only feeling the bitter ache of failure as they pulled away from the grounds. He'd quit jobs before, but he'd never been fired for incompetence like this, made to leave in shame because he couldn't even take care of himself let alone his job. The world passing outside the window was dizzying in his condition, so he stuffed his head between the edge of the seat and the door to watch a sliver of darkening sky instead. His eyes wanted to close, but he didn't feel much like sleeping.

  
“Y’know, you can depend on other people sometimes, and no one will think you're an idiot.” The heat was on low, and the road noise was almost enough to swallow up Leorio's low voice. Kurapika turned his head a bit to watch street lights limn his features in a gradual, lingering halo. How many times had he shown up when Kurapika could move no further, do no more, to fix him until Kurapika could gracelessly run off again into his next mistake. How many more times would he endure this kind of task? Leorio glanced at him, then back to the road with a tightening of his features.

  
Kurapika didn't look away from him this time, content to watch the light play over his glasses, stubble, his hands on the wheel. “I look stupid now though, don't I?” It was less of a question and more of an admission, of fault and weakness.

  
“You look miserable.”

  
“So do you.”

  
They spent most of the ride home listening to the tires whirr over the pavement, watching the blue fade from the sky.

 

  
\---

 

 

 

  
The news was astoundingly useless while he was bedridden, or couch-ridden as the case was, and Kurapika felt like his mind was going to crawl out his ear for the chance to find something more interesting. He hit the last channel button yet again to take him to the equally boring option of a documentary he'd seen six times already. He hit the button again, then began scrolling through the stations one at a time with barely enough time between button presses to identify what was on.

  
He was losing his patience with rest and relaxation, not for the first time wondering if it was a farce simply to keep him where he could be monitored. Some of that was paranoia, he knew, but just knowing it was there didn't make it easier to unwind from rationality. It really was likely Leorio wanted to keep an eye on him but he didn't spend a whole lot of time doing so due to his school work, and Kurapika doubted he'd lie to him to make him stay.

  
Still, he was getting frustrated and found that his desire to move was too great to ignore, finally rolling upright on the couch. He turned the TV off and slipped his shoes on to go for a walk around the building. He was allowed to leave, if he wanted to, but if he did that not only would it defeat the purpose of letting Leorio fix him up, it would hurt his feelings too. Kurapika didn't really want to hurt his feelings, not usually anyway.

  
It had been a week since leaving the Nostrade’s mansion, and he still felt the shame curling under his ribs, festering. Failure always bit hard, especially considering his success usually brought him nothing, emptiness, it never held anything to make up for the chasm his heart had become. It was stupid, as he'd admitted to Leorio on the way back, and he turned his walk into a jog. He felt well enough to head out onto the street towards the park, the one he'd slept in a while back even, so he did without a second thought towards leaving a note or taking his phone. If Leorio returned before him then his belongings should prove well enough he hadn't left.

  
He was unfortunately not well enough to train, work his body until his mind was empty and clear like a perfect crystal, free of cracks and stains. So instead he was left with his thoughts to swarm around him and sting when he didn't ignore or combat them successfully. Like now. Returning to his old job should have worked, it should have shoved him back into the right state to handle things, to continue going after the eyes and the Troupe, but it had backfired and made him worse. There was something wrong with him, something he didn't believe was fixable, and it was something he did to himself with a childish recklessness he'd been warned against.

  
The ruination of his clan wasn't his fault, but destroying himself before righting the wrong certainly was.

  
The thought of revenge and laying his family to rest had often been one of the only things tying him to the mortal plane, and here he was throwing that away. He picked up the pace until he was running properly through the park, and he kept going until he nearly stumbled into a park bench to catch his breath between coughs. He was doing better, but not enough to be acting like this. The air was still chill, would be for another few weeks, and then the warm, wet part of spring would begin. For now it was still cold, enough to quickly cool him down from his run and add to his coughing.

  
The taste of iron filled his mouth and it took him a moment to realize he hadn't bitten his own tongue, it was someone else’s bloodlust. He stifled his next bout of coughs and felt outward until he found the source, then glanced up.

  
Across the path, standing between the trees and growth from one of the many decorative ponds, was Kalluto. He wasn't hiding himself, even if he hadn't yet approached Kurapika, and that set him further on edge. This wasn't a fight he wanted to be responsible for. This wasn't a life he was willing or prepared to take. Kurapika settled his thoughts and leveled a calm glare at the child, not much older than him when he’d started running around in the world, lost.

  
“Go away, Kalluto. I don't want to fight you, but if you force me I'll have to kill you.” He had nothing to do with the attack on the Kurta, nothing at all, but he was a spider and Kurapika's chains would work on him. He had nothing to do with it though, he reminded himself again, and he was Killua's sibling. Kalluto came forward, stepping carefully like a stray cat moving towards a cricket.

  
“I never asked what you wanted, Chain User.” He stopped a few paces away, hands at his sides but not visible due to his sleeves. A fan slid to the edge of his sleeve and was brought up to Kalluto’s lips, which quirked into a small smile. “Stand up and fight me, unless you want to die where you sit.”

  
Kurapika grit his teeth and stood, massaging his hand as he did so. The cold had dissipated sometime during his run but had swiftly returned while he sat stationary, digging into his knuckles and burning the skin. The papercut at his cheek startled him, and he narrowed his attention on Kalluto again to find the boy was letting bits of paper drop onto his now spread fan. With a flick of his wrist the scraps flew at Kurapika, tearing into flesh and cloth alike with a comparative harmlessness that had to be on purpose; Kalluto was toying with him.

  
“Did you like it?” Kalluto asked as he let a few more bits of paper fall onto his fan. “When you killed Feitan and left him out in the open like that, were you trying to say something?”

  
Kurapika deflected this time with a newly solidified length of chain. “I would have buried him if I'd been able to, but he poisoned me.” That was misrepresenting the situation a bit, he didn't bury Feitan because he had been so upset he ran away. “I don't disrespect the dead on purpose, not even my enemies.”

  
Kalluto pulled out a handful of scraps this time and threw them into the air, waving his fan around in a dance that kept the paper airborne, then he launched a small tornado of paper and nen at Kurapika. “Noble of you, I have no such desire to care for your corpse.”

  
Kurapika dodged, moving quick enough to realize Kalluto was slower than his last opponent, even without his eyes lighting up. He got in close to throw a punch near Kalluto’s face, letting his unrevealed chain loop around the kid’s arm, but he was surprised to see his eyes widen in shock and discomfort. Kalluto jumped back without noticing the chain and slashed at Kurapika's chest with the fan itself, cutting deeper than the shreds of paper. It was enough to bring blood to the surface and stain the white cloth a shocking red. Kurapika glanced down at the cut but decided it was inconsequential, and advanced again to loop his chain over Kalluto’s other arm.

  
Again he was faster, and again he came away injured from what seemed to be less of a planned attack and more something out of instinctual defense. The discomfort in Kalluto's expression solidified into consideration, then amusement. “So much for being a ranged fighter, aren't you going to attack me for real?”

  
“You say that like I haven't been,” Kurapika allowed his chains to be visible shortly before yanking them to off balance Kalluto, then again to draw him forward. Kalluto scowled and dug his heels in, but quickly realized he wouldn't win a tug of war and rushed forward holding his fan. The chains went slack and Kurapika had to jump back this time, but not fast enough to avoid a cut to the forearm. He may be faster than Kalluto while advancing, but his reaction time was down and the activity caused him to go into another coughing fit. The next time he was attacked it laid him out on the ground, catching a thin wrist in his hand before the very literal razor edge of Kalluto’ fan could jam into his face.

  
Kalluto held a thin shred of paper between his index and middle finger and smirked before using it to cut Kurapika’s face from the temple to the jaw, the smirk evaporating as he was thrown back over Kurapika's head in a heave-roll. Kurapika jumped to his feet and let his few new loops of chain around Kalluto constrict and force him into Zetsu.

  
“That’s enough of that-” he fell to one knee as a fresh bout of coughing stole his breath, and his chastisement from him. He squinted at his captive with a hand still clamped over his mouth as Kalluto struggled.

  
“So this is how you killed them then, right? Are you going to kill me too?” He looked defiant, but the timbre of his voice only made him sound like a frightened child. The sun shone behind him and lit his hair in a sharp halo, and through the blur of Kurapika's current vision he looked too familiar, to similar, an overlay of the same round face shocking Kurapika into releasing his chains.

  
Kalluto didn't wait around to see if he intended to attack again, running off swiftly and with only a single glance back to glare at Kurapika, clearly not finished with him.

  
Kurapika ran a hand through his hair as he got to his feet again, then headed home to alleviate the nervous burn in his guts.

 

  
\---

 

  
Leorio didn't say anything, he didn't have to in order to clearly broadcast his worry and disapproval of Kurapika coming home wounded and shaky. He took care of his own wounds and avoided eye contact for the time being, still thinking of his current adversary. A child. The sibling to one of his only friends. Before the strange mirage he had absolutely planned to stab Kalluto's heart and give him an impossible question, without a doubt. If he allowed for the honesty, he was disgusted with himself.

  
He pulled his upper layers off to fix the damage to his body, looking the thin cuts over. Thin, but a couple of them were fairly deep, likely the ones from the fan. When he left the bathroom it was with his ruined shirts balled to his chest while he walked to his bag near the couch to retrieve a clean shirt and put it on, unsure if the eyes he felt were Leorio's or his paranoia, but he ignored them either way. If he was living here then he was allowed to be shirtless now and then.

  
“Alright so what, you get in a fight with a cat?” Kurapia turned his head while still kneeling in the living room, fixing the way his shirt lay over his stomach. Leorio was doing a decent job of looking unconcerned now, his eyes darting to his book after making brief contact with Kurapika’s, and his face neutral. It was an act, but one that eased the tension out of his body until he slid an elbow onto the couch, watching Leorio ‘study’ for a moment.

  
“Did you pass your test?”

  
Leorio looked up, caught off guard. “Hunh? Which one?”

  
“When you came and got me from the hotel. Did you pass the test you were studying for then?” He found that it did matter, he wanted to know how he'd affected the situation.

  
“Oh, yeah I passed… I actually do really well on most of my work, I've got more than a hundred percent in class right now because I keep doing the bonuses on weekend quizzes.” He scratched at the stubble along his jaw with one finger, aware of his bragging. “Helping you hasn't really affected my grades, you don't need to worry about that. Ah but I did snip at you before, Sorry, I was just…”

  
He looked back to his book but his eyes didn't move. Kurapika's fingers curled near his shoulder, other hand coming up to brace against his bent arm while he pieced together the strained look on Leorio's face and the unfinished thought. Leorio had been scared, of course, but not for his grades. “It's okay. I'm glad you're doing well after all the trouble you went through for your Hunter's license.”

  
Leorio sighed and rubbed his face, then closed the books taking over the kitchen table. “Thanks. I think I'm gonna turn in early tonight actually, before I get eye strain. You hungry?”

  
“Not particularly, but I'll eat if you do.” He'd force himself to, actually, but he still felt nauseous from coughing and from the fight earlier, the realization of what he'd been about to do.

  
“Alright, I'll make something then.”

  
Dinner was light, a few sandwiches and a bag of spicy chips shared between them. Kurapika got the feeling he used to eat on the couch, but he refrained now that it was the guest bed. Leorio shut out the lights and waved goodnight before disappearing into his room, the warm glow from beneath the door flickering as he moved, then went out. The news was just as useless as before, so he flipped it to the public broadcast station and let his heavy lids ease shut to a botanists explanation of carnivorous plants.

  
His dreams that night were unsettling, strangers with familiar silk kimonos, spiders crawling up under his clothes and into his hair, purple eyes that flickered to bright blue ones he was more accustomed to, his hand turning to stone and crumbling under the cold weight of his chains. Kurapika woke up after each segment of dream to the gentle drone of the television and passed back out before making sense of anything, feeling disoriented and exhausted. When the sun finally rose, it seemed as if he would have been better off just staying awake through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter written after this and then we're working in real time. Feedback is greatly appreciated, it makes my soft heart warm and helps me write faster.


	5. Chapter Four: The Visit

Gon would be visiting sometime later in the day, having gotten the time off for some island holiday. Leorio loved that kid like a younger brother, offering to pay for the rest of his family to come out as well and usually (but not always) getting turned down. Mito had a job and Abe was getting older, they didn't want to hop on a boat every time Gon got more than a couple days off from school, even if it only happened as often as he could get ahead on the work Mito gave him. Leorio marked the new day off on the calendar hanging in the hallway, steam still following him from the open bathroom. Teeth brushed, clothes on, and towel around his neck saw him ready for his own brief vacation, a break between semesters to get sick on booze and break an arm roughhousing maybe.

Except…

Except that Kurapika was his current live-in patient, and he might be better than when Leorio picked him up off the hotel floor, but he was still in bad shape. He wouldn't let Leorio look him over properly so he had to judge based on appearances, body language, the guy's mood. He didn't make it easy, that was for sure.

‘Is it worth it?’ He wondered often, usually when Kurapika seemed to get worse for a day, or when he did some asinine shit like stay up for three days straight or go for a walk and come back covered in leaves and shivering. He was acting foolish, he was acting like someone at the end of their rope, and Leorio had no idea if what he was doing was even helping. If he even could help.

But Gon was coming over and damn it Leorio was going to enjoy this, even with the worry in his gut and the disaster on his couch currently flicking through every single station at light speed.

“Can I help you with something?” Kurapika didn't bother looking up as he spoke, voice bereft of the musical quality it normally carried. Only after being met with silence did his gaze slide to the man in the hallways. “You're staring.”

“I do that a lot, why is it a problem now?” Leorio crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, but he wasn't trying to start a fight; his tone was sincere. “How else am I supposed to check your progress?”

“You could take my temperature.”

“Could I? Since when?”

Kurapika inhaled slowly as if to contain something, either a coughing fit or simply his annoyance. “Since now, it would beat the staring.” He sat up with his wrists between his knees as Leorio finally pushed away from the wall to grab the thermometer. He wouldn't push for anything else just yet, even if he wanted to. He doubted the fever was back but it wouldn't hurt to check, negative results were still results after all. He came back and knelt on the couch cushion as he held up the glass needle, sliding it under Kurapika's tongue and letting go to wait.

This close he could see the lack of color in Kurapika's face and the shagginess of his hair, longer now than he was used to seeing it. The pale locks fell into his face and remained there while they waited long enough for an accurate reading, and when time was up Leorio's suspicions were confirmed. “You're not feverish, if anything maybe you should put on another layer. It's spring but it hasn't warmed up that much.”

“I'll be sure to do that.” He pulled the blanket around himself instead, which was just as well. Leorio watched him for another moment before turning away and tucking the thermometer into his chest pocket.

“I don't know what happened to you or what's going on in your head that makes it so hard to let me help you, but that's really all I'm trying to do. I'm not… It's not like I'm taking notes on a test subject, I just want my friend to get better.” He rubbed his pant leg repeatedly, eyes on the television.

“I know that. I'm trying to let you.”

Leorio sighed and nodded. “I'm glad, I hate watching and not doing anything about it.”

“Mmh. Because you're a man of action, correct?” Kurapika was looking at him now, with a smile gracing his features. It was rare enough to startle him into a laugh.

“Yeah, man of action. Man of steel too if you ask any of my drinking buddies.”

“Aren't you a little young for that?”

Leorio snorted and turned bodily, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “Aren't you a little old to be spending so much time at the playground?”

“It's at night, that's what teenagers do.” Kurapika shrugged, looking haughty to the point of laughability. It made Leorio pause, however.

“You're only two years younger than me, right? You're twenty-two.” His words made Kurapika pause as well, a crease forming between his brows.

“Oh. Yes I suppose that's correct.”

Leorio rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before letting it go. “Speaking of teenagers though, Gon's coming by today. Just in case you wanna decide to stay or not before he gets here.” That got him the dirty look the comment deserved, and he grinned. “So I take it you'll stay?”

“Yes, I'll stay. I haven't seen Gon in years.” He hadn't seen Leorio in years either, but he didn't say that out loud, not when Kurapika was finally starting to loosen up. “Will Killua be with him? Those two are inseparable.”

“Ah,” Leorio tilted his head and looked at the television. Years. Years of missing information to sum up. “Actually they won't be together, this is mostly something Gon and I do, since Killua's living with his sister somewhere in hiding.”

“Hiding?” Kurapika's brow furrowed and his full attention narrowed on Leorio. “Sister? Do you mean Kalluto?”

“No, actually we never saw his sister when we visited, they kept her locked up or some shit. He kinda stole her actually. Alluka, that's her name, they're hiding from that creep from the Hunter exam, Illumi.” Leorio reached out to the coffee table for the remote, muting the show that was on. “You've missed a lot actually, Gon lost his ability to use nen as well, because of some hatsu contract he made. He comes to me so I can check his progress getting it back and making sure it doesn't like, stunt his growth or anything.”

Kurapika looked maybe a bit more horrified than Leorio had expected, he looked exhausted and upset, then he just looked sad. “Of course, as ambitious as he is I'm sure learning he could make a trade off for power went unsupervised for too long. He doesn't say what he's thinking at the worst times.” That was guilt, then.

“He almost died actually, Alluka healed him.” Kurapika looked surprised, then dubious. “I don't know how, but I think that's also why they're in hiding.” To that, Kurapika had no rebuttal.

They were able to get through lunch before Gon showed up, not even bothering to knock and instead barreling through the door and over to Leorio. He wrapped his arms tight around Leorio and lifted him up in a hug, tall enough he was eye level with Leorio's chest now, likely almost even with Kurapika. Leorio hugged him back and messed his hair up. “Hey kid! Don't crush me now, I'm not old but I don't regenerate as fast.”

Gon just grinned at him and set him down. “I missed you! And I heard Kurapika was going to be here too.” He looked around and spotted Kurapika, currently on the couch, and bolted for him next. Kurapika had time to look uncomfortable before he was flat on his back with Gon hugging him tight, although it looked more protective than plain enthusiasm. So he'd noticed, then. “You're so mean, Kurapika, you never call or answer me online.”

“Oh so you actually got his email then? You must be special.” Leorio followed him into the livingroom in time to hear Kurapika scoff.

“He probably got it from Killua, if you didn't think to ask him too that isn't my fault.” He pushed Gon back so he could sit up, but looked more fond than anything, his expression gentler than Leorio had seen in years. “You look healthy.”

Gon grinned wide and leaned back. “Mito and Abe cook so much food I almost can't keep up with eating it sometimes. You should come visit, they'll take one look at you and strap you to a chair.”

“Oh that sounds reassuring, thank you.” Kurapika laughed softly, looking for all the world like none of the past few years had happened. But still, they did cling to his posture and pull his face back into the tight, almost strained expression he normally kept. Kurapika didn't insist on the physical distance with Gon he normally did with him, and Leorio tried not to feel a twinge of jealousy, an emotion he had the most trouble with. It was Gon, how could you ask that kid to back off after looking into his big brown eyes? Leorio took up the space behind Gon on the couch, not leaving too much room between the three of them.

Gon grinned in response before remembering something and making a tortured sigh, turning to sit properly on the couch. “Killua won't help me with my math lessons so it takes me forever to get through the work, even with Mito and Abe there. I got enough done that Mito let me leave but I had to bring the rest with me. Please pleeeeease help me?” He turned to give Kurapika the now amplified weight of his gaze and full pout until he laughed and agreed.

The day stayed pleasant, the atmosphere lighter than it had been in a long time. They went over some of Gon’s work with him, hung out to talk and catch up, and went for a short walk around the block to take in the surprisingly warm weather. The snow was melting sluggishly and creating puddles and mud and early flowers to bloom in the new patches of earth. It was pleasant up until Kurapika got pale and had to sit down, looking a little damp. He pushed the both of them away and cleared his throat.

“Give me a moment please, I'll be fine in a moment.” They waited, and turned back towards the apartment as soon as he was able to walk again.

Gon was the first to say something once they were back inside. “Kurapika you really don't look so good, what's wrong with you?” Seventeen and he still had no tact despite the kindness in his motives.

“It's just a cold Gon, you don't need to worry.” Kurapika wouldn't look at him though, not either of them. He walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and Leorio didn't miss the tremor in his hands. Neither did Gon.

“No, I can feel it. It's really hard for me now, like math homework, but you don't feel right. It's not a cold.” What was Gon saying? Of course Kurapika didn't feel right, he was sick! Sick people's auras tended to have holes in them or were weaker in general, it happened. It, however, was a good point because Kurapika didn't feel like a sick person, not exactly. Leorio's brow furrowed as the ice settled into his gut.

Kurapika took a sip of his water, then downed half the glass without looking away from the fridge. He didn't reply, and Gon's shoulders came up as his eyes widened. He spoke and his voice was careful, “It's like there's less of you here than I remember.” Kurapika pressed the rim of the glass against his lips and finally looked over, meeting Gon’s eyes.

“Are you sleeping over tonight?”

“No, normally I sleep on the couch so I got a hotel. Kurapika did you do something bad?” His voice was less careful and more nervous, a sound Leorio wasn't used to hearing.

“I'm just sick, Gon. Please don't worry, I'll feel different when I get better.”

No one was reassured.

  
\---

  
They had let Gon pick the place to hang out and of course he somehow found the grassiest, dirtiest place to be. He ran ahead to inspect a fallen tree that was choking the culvert and creating a small waterfall, poised above it frozen for a moment before his hand shot forward and he grabbed a fish out of the water. Gon held up the captive creature with a grin until Kurapika smiled and Leorio asked him to please put it back before it died.

Kurapika's smile made Gon feel sad, like a flicker of panic that ran out of energy and bent into his shoes. He let the fish go and returned to his friends sides to continue their exploration of the ditch that ran through the city closest to Leorio's apartment. Gon looked over at Kurapika again until he realized he was making eye contact.

"Is there something on my face?" Kurapika smirked at him softly, like it was a joke and not like he knew full well Gon was eyeing the permanent crease between his eyebrows or the tight set of his jaw. He relaxed when Gon laughed back easily.

"Yeah, a couple gnats." He had definitely done something bad, something Gon couldn't figure out just by looking at him. It was clearer when he tried to expand his En, or even just be aware of it, but that was so difficult that it drained Gon's energy, energy he could be using to play. Energy better spent making his two older friends cheer up a little and stop looking to sad all the time. He looked up at the sky. “You two really should come visit Whale Island sometime soon, it's much warmer there already and the air is cleaner. Besides that I have so many cool places to show you, this place is nice but it's not the same with all the engine grease in the water. I've been reading a lot about that kind of thing, about how the stuff people do is really bad for the world and how big corporations dump stuff in the ocean and that's why Mito keeps finding really weird looking fish.”

“Are you going to become an ecology hunter, Gon?” Leorio smiled when he spoke, and it was honest, open, he wasn't hiding anything behind it. A glance at Kurapika revealed the opposite, and Gon wasn't sure what he could do to fix that.

“Something like that, I don't think you have to be a Hunter to be a conservationist, but that's not what I want to do anyway, it's just a big deal in all my school work on the island. I want to do something big and exciting still, once I can use my Nen again.” He bent down to pick up a lizard that wasn't nearly fast enough to evade him. He looked at the blue stripe going down its back as they continued walking, feeling nervous energy fill up his insides.

He hadn't seen Kurapika in five years, so much had happened in that time and yet not much he wanted to talk about. His life on the island was fun, but right now it seemed strange look back on, the things that took place in the NGL still upset him too much and he didn't want to bring the mood down any further.

This felt like something he had to fix, but he didn't know how. The lizard wiggled side to side until it whipped around and bit his palm, holding on tight while he held his hand out to continue admiring its scales. “Hey Kurapika, isn't your birthday soon? I forgot what day it was but it's April, right?”

“Oh, yes it's the fourth. Actually Leorio's just happened I think. We've never celebrated our birthdays together, have we?” Kurapika's mood finally lifted a little, his mind on something simple now. Gon latched onto the idea gladly.

“We haven't! I think we should start, parties with friends are more fun anyway. I'll tell Mito about it and then you won't have a choice about coming to the island, she'll come get you herself if you try to skip out on your own birthday party.”

Kurapika snorted and held a hand over his mouth as Gon's excitement finally scared the lizard into letting go and running off into the ditch.

  
\---

  
Gon went home on the weekend after a long few days of interaction and catching up, as well as trying to avoid the question when Leorio asked what he'd meant by ‘something bad’.

“Well, you know, kind of like what I did when Alluka had to heal me.” Except Leorio didn't really know, because that had taken Gon’s control of his nen away, not actually taken his nen. Now that he'd said it out loud Leorio couldn't help but notice how much fainter Kurapika felt. What had he done?

Alone again with another couple weeks to pass, Leorio couldn't stop himself from poking the proverbial bear. Kurapika sat at the desk in his bedroom to flip through a suit catalogue that had been in the apartment before him while Leorio sat on his bed sewing a button onto a dress shirt. The cuff had snapped when he forgot to undo it the night before while getting undressed, and when he had been unable to find it Kurapika came in uninvited to find it for him. Now he sat primly to read, albeit with some sagging in the shoulders.

Leorio glanced at him to watch as he flipped a page, looking over something with more shine to it than Leorio had ever had the cash for. When Kurapika met his stare with a flick of the eyes, he stabbed his own knuckle with the needle. “Shit- ow.” He stuck it in his mouth and met Kurapika's eyes again as the other spoke.

“You should pay more attention to what you're doing, carelessness could get you killed you know.” The small smile accompanying the words was a shame only in its brevity, although it's short life was Leorio's fault.

“Is that what's wrong with you? Were you careless?” Leorio slid the needle through the pale blue fabric and this time kept his eyes on the task. He didn't have to see Kurapika's face to feel his anger reach across the room and send a shiver up his spine.

“Excuse me?”

“The average person puts off enough aura for me to feel, even people who don't know what it is can feel when someone walks into the room. I haven't been able to be sure you're in the same room as me without looking up the entire time you've been here.” Kurapika was silent, and so he continued, putting another loop of thread through the small white button before tying it off. “I was hoping it was just because you were used to stealth, or that it'd improve on your good days. But that's not it. Is it?” He cut the thread with his teeth and put the needle back in its cushion, finally looking up to assess the damage.

Kurapika wet his lips and tilted his head a little, his focus somewhere at the foot of Leorio’s bed. He noted the chilling anger had faded into obscurity again. “No, that isn't it.”

“What did you do, Kurapika? I want- I need to know, actually, if I'm going to be able to help you.” He set his sewing aside to turn, bringing a knee up onto the mattress in the process. It was hard to read the way Kurapika's mouth twitched.

“It's not as much something I've done as something I've been doing, over time not all at once.” He set the catalogue aside but left his hand at the corner to rub along the glossy paper.

“... What does that mean? Most of what I know about Nen is from a medical standpoint for normal people, what have you been doing?” The cold feeling in his gut returned.

“I needed to complete my mission, I still do in fact, but I knew I didn't have the power on my own. But I could get it, if I sacrificed the right thing I could get that power.” He folded the corners back before letting them brush free below his thumb. He repeated the motion.

“So you sacrificed your Nen for… More Nen? That doesn't make any sense.” It was beginning to, though, the answer bubbling up like air from a mud choked spring.

Kurapika shook his head. “That doesn't make sense because that's not how Nen contracts work. I sacrificed my life, in hours actually.”

“What.” His voice was quiet, hardly perceptible but he knew he was heard.

“For every second I use Emperor Time, I lose another hour off my life. Its like increasing the size of a flame on a candle, there's more fire because it burns faster.”

“What.” Leorio's voice was louder this time and he was on his feet before he could think it through, taking two steps to cross the distance. He had startled Kurapika, and the way he leaned back into the desk with his feet planted flat on the ground, fist on the table, said that he'd fight if it came to that. His expression flickered as he forced anger over the guilt, pushing himself out if the chair and to his feet to hold his ground.

“Don't act so surprised, Leorio, you knew I'd do anything for this, you know I don't fear death.” Standing there with the signs of too much work and not enough sleep, or food, or sanity, every inch of Kurapika spoke along with his words. Everything except the look on his face.

Leorio grabbed the front of Kurapika's shirt and hauled him closer, aware of but ignoring the knife suddenly pressed against him in warning. “I didn't expect you to run headlong into it! I didn't expect you to just throw your life away for a bunch of criminals and some dead people!”

“Some dead people?! You mean my fucking family, Leorio?!” Kurapika's eyes shone brightly despite how well lit the room was, teeth bared as he grabbed Leorio's wrist to shove him off, eventually resorting to peeling the larger hand away by the fingers. If he noticed Leorio glance at his bandaged fingertips he didn't seem to give a damn at the moment.

“Yeah, right, your family. So do you think they're the type to want you miserable? How would they feel knowing you're doing this shit to yourself?” Leorio's tone was acerbic and the taste of the words in his mouth made him scrape his tongue against his teeth; bitter. He moved closer to back Kurapika into the desk when he made to shove him out of the way entirely.

“Don't talk about them! Don't you dare talk about them like you knew them, like you have any right to decide how I honor their lives! Get out of my way.” Kurapika turned his head to look at the chair, sending it rolling away with his shin, but Leorio backed off shortly regardless.

“There are living people who care about you, do you even know that?” Leorio stayed a pace away as Kurapika glowered at him. The glow from his eyes lit up the very edges of his bangs and shown along the skin of his nose, the pupils looking like someone turned a flashlight on him in the dark. It was eerie for a human to have the eyes of an amped up nocturnal predator, but Leorio's heart hurt too much to focus on the low current of fear that came with seeing his friend truly angry.

“And unfinished business to attend to for the people I originally cared for in return. I can't give up on this, not even if I get worse. Especially if I get worse. This is the only thing I want, Leorio, the only thing I can want, and you seem to think I didn't prepare myself to follow through. I'm dying, so what? So is everyone else!” He sucked in a breath to keep speaking but broke off with a flicker of red that cut out, swaying sideways to put a hand on the desk.

“Kurapika?” Leorio jolted forward as Kurapika sank to the ground in a controlled slump, cupping his face to lift it up. He looked in one eye, then the other before Kurapika pulled back until his head met the edge of the desk. “That's new, right? I haven't seen you do that, is this the same thing that happened when Melody called-”

“I didn't faint, I'm fine. I just got a bit lightheaded.” He stopped trying to pull away after making eye contact, expression tightening up as Leorio's shoulders grew nearer to his ears. “You're not… Oh please don't- Leorio don't cry.” The color rushed to Kurapika's face as Leorio’s hands slipped from his face to his shoulders, his head sinking until his hair brushed Kurapika’s chest.

“I'm not crying, I'm not going to cry, give me a moment.” He brought one hand to his face while the other tightened in the shirt under it, knuckles whitening. He took a steadying breath before wiping his hand off on his shirt and looking up to meet Kurapika's stare. “This power you bargained for is killing you, and you tell me it's a necessary evil. I just can't believe that, I can't believe that it's worth the price.”

Kurapika wet his lips, bringing one hand up to remove Leorio's from his shoulder but settling for covering it instead. “It has to be. It's all that's left to be done, then I can stop.” Leorio didn't ask him to clarify.

“You can stop now, you can stop whenever you want. You have the eyes, right?” When Kurapika nodded, he continued. “Then you win, you can put your family to rest, you don't need to keep killing yourself for people who don't deserve your time.” He brought a hand back up to Kurapika's cheek and touched the soft skin there, as if to reassure himself it was still real, still flushed with blood and very alive. Kurapika turned his face into the warmth, and didn't answer him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you liked something or want to yell, I'd be happy to hear it.
> 
> NOW WE'RE IN REAL TIME! I've posted all the chapter's I have written and am working on the last half of this fic now. Wish me luck!


	6. Chapter Five: Solutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long wait, here is the next update for Into Remission! Thank you everyone who's commented and read my bits and pieces while I worked on this in the middle of everything else I've been working on. This is certainly a long haul fic, but as I said before, it WILL be completed eventually.

Leorio was possibly one of the most stubborn people Kurapika knew. He refused to accept what Kurapika had done to himself, or at least that it was permanent, and had begun to search for anything he could find on illnesses affected or caused by Nen. It was admirable, it should be admirable, but instead Kurapika just felt uneasy. Leorio was throwing himself into this with his whole heart, what was he going to do if he didn't find any answers?

They sat on the couch, Kurapika flipping frequently between the news and the history channel to watch a documentary, Leorio using his phone to log onto the Hunter website to check more of the information available on nen related medical files. Kurapika’s gaze slid from the television screen to his housemate’s phone, unaware of his own movement until his jaw brushed Leorio's shoulder. He didn't bother looking up from the screen because soon enough it was lifted and angled better for two readers.

“... This isn't useful, this is about the nen ability of someone else stealing the life force of the victim.” Kurapika sat back up as Leorio turned to him, realizing they were too close only when warm breath blew across his face.

“It's similar though. That energy is gone forever, it doesn't come back, I get the impression it's the same with you so if there's a treatment for this maybe we can try it out. There aren't a whole lot of exact sciences and medicine is even less of one than you might think.” One large arm moved over the back of the couch as Leorio crossed his legs, ankle over one knee.

Kurapika tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Alright, and is there a treatment listed or is this just an account of something that happened?” He didn't bother acting surprised when Leorio read further and made a face.

“The last option. Damn it.”

“It's really alright, I accepted this outcome before I began. I don't need to cheat my way out of the consequences of my act-” He pressed his lips thin at the look he was given. “Maybe we should address your issue with death instead then, before this becomes any more of a problem for you.”

“You can be as mean to me as you want but it's not going to make me suddenly stop trying to save your life, so do me a favor and quit being a jerk.” Leorio tapped at his phone a few times and settled in to read something else, ignoring the eye roll Kurapika gave back.

There wasn't much of a life to save, Kurapika thought, at this point at least. He knew he was being unfair, that he'd try just as hard to save his friends as well, but this would be so much work for so little reward and it was completely unneeded. Unnecessary. Kurapika had a difficult time wrapping his mind around any way he could make this up to Leorio before his time ran out, anything he could do to soften the blow. There weren't many options. Leorio deserved someone who would grow old with him, not a permanent responsibility. Kurapika picked at the rubber button of the remote, not seeing the changing of the stations.

He knew Leorio wouldn't give up on him easily, not even if he walked away right now and never came back, but staying meant putting him through more pain than he deserved. Kurapika didn't know what to do with this, with the love offered up to him or the care that came with it, with having friends who wanted him to stay in one piece. It turned his insides cold with the fear that if he settled too comfortably into believing this would still be here when he looked away, he'd come back to charred bodies and ruined buildings. He shut the television off and brought his fingertips to the chapped edges of his lips, thinking. This wasn't something he could deal with by running away.

The couch shifted and he realized Leorio was looking at him carefully, his expression guarded in the way he'd only recently learned to affect. “Hey, you alright?”

“... Just fine.” He didn't need to look to see the way Leorio hesitated, then backed off, settling into the thin cushions to resume his search. The lie was obvious, but it worked.

Then that's how he'd soften the blow.

\---

Slowly, he peeled himself away, drew into himself until he could erect walls that had too recently been rebuilt. Leorio would reach out, and Kurapika would gently push him away, always gently, always with an easy deflection. They ate, and watched the television, and all the while Kurapika crawled into the shell of his own construction as he waited for Leorio to realize the obvious; he wasn't going to get better.

Leorio sat across from him at the restaurant, too big for the space under the booth but positioning his legs so Kurapika's weren't cramped. Absent thoughtfulness. Kurapika ate his meal, steak to mirror Leorio's, and flexed his deflective abilities.

"So, watch any interesting documentaries recently?"

"Some."

"Oh? Like what?"

"I don't know, I wasn't paying close attention."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Just stuff."

"Ah."

They lapsed into silence again, Leorio chewing his lip as his hands mostly fidgeted rather than cut up his food. Kurapika looked sideways out the window, the stars hardly visible through the heavy cloud cover. It had been threatening to rain for days now, the humidity growing without any luck. People carried umbrellas in futility, possibly even as a charm to make it rain already, to the point that some were left here and there at bus stops and park benches. In the time it took Leorio to clear his throat, Kurapika watched another person leave behind their umbrella as they got onto the bus.

"So I've uh, been doing well at school. Made some friends, actually I knew them from a couple years back. One of them wants to meet you too even, seemed to recognize your name-"

"Don't-" Kurapika turned towards him suddenly, his grip on the utensils much stronger than before. "Don't... Talk to other people about me. You're going to get yourself in trouble."

"With who?" Leorio's voice rose from incredulity. "You? Or them?"

"Either. Both." Kurapika turned to glare out the window, red reflecting off the glass. A breath, another breath, and he could see through clear glass once more, but Leorio's temper had risen.

“You happen to be a very big part of my life, you jackass, and I talk to my friends about my life. Besides that,” he leaned in over the table, not noticing when his tie flopped into his mashed potatoes. “You're not in any danger with me around, and I can handle myself, so what's the issue?”

“Leorio you couldn't possibly defend yourself from someone coming over and shooting you the moment you open the door, so don't tell me there's no danger as if I'm paranoid.”

“You are paranoid, though, that's just a fact of life.” He spoke so matter-of-factly that Kurapika's eyes shut and his expression screwed up in a failed attempt to stay mad. “Kurapika please, look at me.”

“You are so stupid…” Kurapika opened his eyes and turned to look at Leorio, reaching out to lift his tie out of the food before it got too soaked in gravy. “I might be paranoid, but I'm still telling the truth.”

Leorio loosened and removed his tie, cheeks a little pinker than before. “Yeah alright, I don't have any crazy Nen defenses against bullets, but if anyone was coming after you from the mob they’d have done it by now don't you think?”

“Please don't talk about me if you can help it. I have more enemies than the mob. Many more.” He put his cheek in his hand and sighed, looking at his abandoned food.

Leorio watched him, gaze soft but concerned. “... I need you to talk to me then, tell me what's going on, tell me who's after you. That's what friends do, right?” Kurapika winced but didn't immediately shun the idea. Because they were friends, they were maybe something else too, or maybe they could be, if Kurapika weren't so set on getting Leorio to look elsewhere.

“Yes, that is what friends do. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do with you, you won't listen to reason and I don't want-” he clicked his front teeth together for a moment. “This is going to be much harder on you than it will be for me, and you refuse to let me change that, so how can I talk to you?”

“With your words,” He frowned at Kurapika seriously, reaching across the table with his hand palm up. “It's not that I'm refusing to accept the possibility, I refuse to not even try to fix this. I can't let someone else die if there's anything at all I can do.”

Kurapika stared at the offering, then glanced up at Leorio's face again as he reached out and gripped the hand tightly, sighing as Leorio squeezed back. “Okay.”

\---

If anything he felt worse now that he couldn't pull away like he wanted to, he was fully aware of Leorio's determination and occasionally had to lock himself in the bathroom just to get away from the building anxiety. What scared him more than anything was the seed of hope Leorio was beginning to nurture within him. What if he did find a way to recover the years he'd gambled away? What if he could live to see Leorio old and grey? Kurapika found that he wanted that strong enough it made his bones ache, and after that he couldn't keep his distance at all.

He found himself in Leorio's room more often than not, reading his medical textbooks for something to do while Leorio looked online for anything that might help Kurapika. When Leorio went out for errands, Kurapika would occasionally slip into his bed and fall asleep there, comforted by being able to bury his head under the pillow and just rest. Eventually he left the couch entirely, content to let Leorio pull him close at night and hold on until long after they'd both fallen asleep. It soothed even his dreams, marginally, and he grew used to the company.

It was a morning like this that he woke up to Leorio's alarm, arms and legs held captive by larger counterparts, and he slowly realized it wasn't the alarm, but a ringtone. “Leorio. Wake up, I can't grab your phone for you like this.” He sighed when Leorio burrowed his head between Kurapika's and the pillows. There was nothing for it then, he twisted his hips and moved his core until the two of them rolled with him on top, and he answered the phone on it's last ring.

“Kurapika? I see, well Leorio mentioned his plans to me, and I was calling to let him know I could get the time set aside.” A woman’s voice he didn’t recognize answered as he looked down to eye Leorio.

“Here, he's decided to wake up and be coherent.” Kurapika passed the phone into Leorio's reaching hand, then moved to lay back down only to find Leorio's other hand brushing up against his hip in askance. Perhaps it was the gentleness of the gesture, or the way Leorio's eyes closed as he spoke on the phone, but Kurapika decided to stay where he was and let the hand settle around his hip bone over his sleep clothes.

“Yeah? Oh good, yeah, yes. I’ll see you then. I know you had a passing interest in this, it’s great that you wanted to talk to this lady already anyway. Yeah absolutely, bye.” Leorio let the phone go black with the end call and dropped it to the mattress beside his head. His eyes were still tired, but now looking at Kurapika with a tension that usually accompanied check-ups. Still, the hand at Kurapika’s hip continued to pet him, and after another moment slipped underneath the hem of his nightshirt.

“Care to explain? This seems to be weighing on you.” Kurapika swallowed down the urge to grab Leorio’s hand, either to brush it off or pull it higher along the expanse of his side, and leaned over him instead to take the phone and set it on the side table.

“The new chairman, Cheadle, is going to meet me in a few days so we can go find a healer who works primarily with Nen maladies. Gon also got the details out of me, so he’s coming too,” He tensed when Kurapika leaned back, squinting down at him. “I wasn’t sure how to ask if you wanted to come with, and I figured if I asked too soon you’d tell me not to do this at all. Well, now you can choose to come with or not. You don’t have to. I just need to find this lady so I can ask her some questions and she isn’t online at all, totally off the grid, but she’s alive and still in the Hunter database. Kurapika…”

Kurapika put his hand on Leorio’s chest to steady himself as he moved off and to the edge of the bed, considering his slippers. “You planned this behind my back, you mean, because you didn’t trust me to know what was best for myself.”

The lack of a reply burned.

“I am not a child, Leorio.” He turned to glare at Leorio’s now much closer face, shutting his eyes as he was pulled into a lose hug.

“I know, and you can be as mad as you want and I won't bitch even a little bit.” His chest was warm and the shirt over it was soft, brushing against Kurapika’s cheek until he finally let his face rest against the fabric.

“Are you even capable of that?” The voice was muffled somewhat, and dangerously close to sulking. Kurapika figured he deserved to sulk even as Leorio let out a sharp laugh.

“Yeah, I think I can keep from being too much of a pain in the ass about the doghouse for this.”

Kurapika sighed, leaning into the warm embrace, and closed his eyes. "... I'll come with. There's no point in you going off for me without me, and with you gone all I'll have to focus on is myself." The moment the words left his mouth he winced from how pathetic they sounded, but he couldn't take them back.

Leorio nodded and tightened his hug for a second before reaching up to squeeze Kurapika's shoulders. "If nothing else, she should be able to tell us who's right." Kurapika laughed this time.

"Are you baiting me with the possibility of saying I told you so?"

"I might be, although it'll definitely be me saying it." Leorio let him get up, his pinched expression relaxing with Kurapika's amused hum.

"That'd be nice, but we'll see." He took a change of clothes with him into the bathroom, deciding that a shower would clear his mind enough to start thinking about this trip as a real event in his future.

\---

The sky outside was a brilliant blue, the wind picking up and warmer than days previous. Spring was creeping along and the world outside was greening up into vibrant hues, from the grass in the sidewalk cracks to the trees in the city park. Kurapika could focus on none of it, sitting on the hood of the car while the wind yanked at his hair and the ends of his unzipped jacket.

They were meeting Cheadle here, then picking up Gon from the upper city port, and then they’d be on their way. Kurapika scratched an itch on his scalp, stomach too tense to allow him to do more than drink his coffee and eat a piece of toast. At least today Leorio had the decency to leave him alone about it, caught up as he was in keeping the whole thing going according to plan. The car was parked outside a diner, the one where Kurapika had gotten his toast and coffee even, and Leorio was walking in little circles around the bush barriers near the sidewalk with his phone to his ear. Kurapika could hear him talking, likely to Gon by the tone of voice.

A small drop of rain fell into Kurapika’s styrofoam cup, causing him to squint up at the blue sky. There were clouds moving in from the north, but nothing serious, most likely just a sunshower. Leorio hung up as another car pulled in, and a woman who must be the Dog of the Zodiacs stepped out, in all her green-haired and white gowned glory. Kurapika eyed her curiously and twisted on the hood to lean against the windshield to better watch as Leorio opened the trunk for her to fit her travel bags in alongside their own. She met his eye over the roof of the car and lifted a hand in greeting, her expression unsmiling but not unfriendly. “Hello, I assume you’re Kurapika. You match the picture in the Hunter database. How are you feeling?”

  
Kurapika glanced at Leorio, who looked a little embarrassed but clearly not going to be intervening. “I’d rather not discuss my physical health with a complete stranger, even if you are a Medical Hunter.”

  
“Disease Hunter actually, and a three star Hunter as well. You can trust me.” Now she did smile, likely the one she gave most reluctant patients. He pressed his lips thin and looked down at his coffee before taking a sip, turning away from her. “... Or not, that’s fine too.”

Leorio came trotting up to the driver’s side and huffed in reply. “He’s not all that talkative right now, just get him going about some dead civilization if you want to make friends. Hey don’t gimme that look, it’s true.” With a grin, Leorio got in behind the wheel. Kurapika was annoyed to find that he was too slow to stop Cheadle from taking the other front seat, and was relegated to the seat behind her. He sipped at his coffee again, more annoyed than disinterested now.

They pulled out of the parking lot, and off towards port to retrieve Gon for the start of this new and somewhat daunting adventure.

\---

Kalluto was not one to pace. He did not pace, because that was a waste of energy. Instead, he folded paper over and over in patterns to calm his nerves. No, not calm his nerves, that implied he was scared. It was to focus his mind, center his thoughts on a single objective and the many branching ways to achieve it. When one small paper flower was complete, he set it aside to work on another. He looked up, catching the gaze of Nobunaga, who had been watching his handy work.

“They’re very nice, did you teach yourself or did someone show you how to fold origami?” Nobunaga crossed his legs and leaned his weight onto his shoulder, looking genuinely interested. Kalluto didn’t like him as much as he had liked Feitan, but Nobu was like an over enthusiastic uncle at times, very encouraging.

“My mother showed me when I was much younger, but I taught myself more with books she bought for me. Do you know how, too?”

“Haha! No, paper isn’t my thing really. But I can whittle.” He pulled out a small knife and a piece of wood he had clearly been etching out some kind of beast from. “I only just started this one, but it takes a while to look good anyway.”

“It never looks good, I always get it wrong when you make me guess what animal you’ve made now.” Machi entered the room with a notebook in hand, glancing over to see the way Kalluto hid his smile in his sleeve. “You should ask him to make you something sometime, and see how close he gets.”

“That’s not nice…” Nobunaga grumbled and started picking away at the wood, shavings falling to the ground like confetti.

Machi sat down near Kalluto to open her notepad, flipping through a few pages and looking them over before she spoke. “The Chain User is on the move, traveling by car with three others including the man who caused the distraction during the Boss’s kidnapping, that kid Gon who almost joined, and the current chairman of the Hunter association.” She looked up at Kalluto’s intense stare, his hands now very still.

“On the move. To where?”

“I don’t know, but that’s not important. I have a Nen thread tied to their vehicle, we’ll be able to track them just fine.”

Nobunaga put his whittling away and bent over his lap to think, arms dangling in front of him so he could tap his pointer fingers together. “So we find a good spot to ambush them, and kill the Chain Guy before he can cause any more damage. All three of us are more than enough for them, although I don’t really wanna fight the kid.”

“I just want to kill Kurapika, he’s mine.” Kalluto turned his gaze on Nobu now, who studied him carefully. “He’s mine.”

“Don’t get cocky, we’ll be there if it gets too bad. But alright, he’s yours.”

Kalluto looked down at the flower in his lap, ripped into two jagged pieces and bent to the shape of his fists.


End file.
